Feywen

[rphunter]

20+ he/they looking for some dragon age writers. veilguard has brought back my da muse and i’d love to write lucanis opposite of any character. i adore rook, but im also willing to ship with others or even write a platonic dynamic. nsfw is fine but i wouldn’t want it to be the main focus. we can bounce ideas off one another. i am also open to portraying rook and others if we get along and choose to be insane. i mostly write over discord and my style is advanced literate/novella. like this and i’ll reach out!

,

[whenthedreadwolftakesyou-deacti]

Dragon Age Blogs

guys I just created a new blog so that I can finally share the DA love here on Tumblr as well: https://rheatrevelyan.tumblr.com/. Because it would be way easier for me to find DA related blogs to follow I wanted to ask you: if you are a Dragon Age blog (no matter which part) may I ask you to like/reblog this post? Would be the happiest dork on earth!!! Thank you!

[feywen]

{might write how Feywen got his scar under his eyes next.}

[feywen]

Nostalgia hurts

Feywen was looking over the library, down to see Solas working on the gorgeous painting on the walls. A sigh escaped​ his lips, looking at the older elf always made him feels some kind of nostalgia. He missed his clan despite not really having good relationship with them. It was still a home with people like him. Here he was mostly near human that looked at him weird. And Sera wasn’t really.. nostalgia. Sera was more “human” then elf.

He could always go down and talk to Solas but.. he knew Solas didn’t really like his clan and he mostly didn’t wanted to interrupt him while he was working. It wasn’t like he could just go over and ask for a hug. He wasn’t a child anymore and he couldn’t be weak. He let out a low hiss when his hand started glowing. Maybe he should see him for that, Solas seemed to know a lot about that.

“Solas?” His voice was weaker then intended when he finally walked down to have a talk.

@dexukidoessolas

[dexukidoessolas]

“Good afternoon, Feywen.”

Solas turned and smiled at the young elf, his eyes drawn to his faintly glowing hand and noticed as he flinched, clutching it to his chest.

“The mark is causing you pain again…” he said, quietly, eyebrows knitting together.

“Come. Take a seat.”

He wiped his hands on the cloth draped over his arm and set down his equipment. He walked over and placed a hand on Feywen’s shoulder as he guided him to the cream coloured divan and knelt in front of him whilst he sat, taking his left hand in his.

He studied the inflamed mark, gently running a finger across the scar and closed his eyes, summoning enough magic to ease his pain.

The glow lessened and he watched as relief washed over Feywen’s face.

He was a quiet young man, it was part of his nature, yet Solas could sense there was something more troubling him.

He stood up and sat beside him.

“How are you feeling, Feywen? Besides the mark causing you discomfort, of course…”

He was aware of the difficulty Feywen had at conveying his feelings in spoken words.

“If it helps, perhaps you could write it down?”

[feywen]

Feeling the magic appeasing the mark felt like putting something cold over it, appeasing the burn into something uncomfortable but not painful.

“thank you for taking care of this..” Feywen whispered with a light embarrassed blush, he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t control this sort of pain.

He opened his mouth to started talking before closing it again with forcing a smile.

“I am feeling fine. The mark was just acting up again and well.. since you are the only one who know how it works I wanted to ask you about it.”

In the end he just cowardly shut himself. He shouldn’t bother anyone just because he was some kind of homesick.

“How’s the painting going?”

[dexukidoessolas]

Solas sensed that Feywen didn’t want confide in him about his troubles, or was maybe too afraid to do so, although he had his own suspicions of what may be causing him upset.

He looked at the fresco that adorned the room.

“I am making progress. You are giving me plenty material to work with after all.”

He smiled and thought if Feywen didn’t wish to talk, a distraction might help instead.

He stood up from the divan and walked over to the wall he had been working on before Feywen had entered the room.

“As I wandered the Fade, I saw countless memories where such works of art were bountiful, especially during the time of Arlathan. The ancient elves seemed to prefer recording their history in pigment and plaster rather than writing.”

He picked up his equipment once more. He had finally finished the underlayer of wet plaster along with the design sketch. It had taken him hours to complete and it was now ready to absorb the mixture of pigment and water he had prepared earlier. It was an incredibly taxing endeavour but he enjoyed the hours he lost himself in creating. It was the only time his mind was still and felt a sense of peace.

“I watched as a young man spent his days creating, witnessed his anger as he realised mistakes and had to scrape them away to start again. His hands rough and calloused, his back aching, tears of frustration falling from his eyes yet… When he had finished, his face was a picture of wonder. He was in awe of what his own hands had created and the pain he experienced was worth it as it gave way to the joy he felt at his accomplishment. I watched many of this young man’s memories and I decided to teach myself the technique. It is a shame there are very few living practitioners left.”

He smiled wistfully and a hint of sadness flashed in his eyes.

“I’m aware of a few Dalish clans that practise this art form although on a much smaller scale. Were you taught about it in your clan?“

[feywen]

Feywen listened, captive by the memory, watching with interest the work of art on the wall. How can someone create something that beautiful? It must have took years of practice. How was it in Arlathan? How many painting where there? How many years did they took to make? Why did they got destroy? Art was beautiful why did it need to get destroyed with Arlathan?.. it was such a shame.

He slowly got up to walk toward Solas so he could watch as the other pain. As he walked he put his hand on the wall feeling the painting, wondering how much frustration and tears had been put through it. Especially when you are learning by yourself.

“And that young man never thought on giving up? If he didn’t enjoy painting it, why did it keep going? Because the results would be beautiful? But was it worth the anger and the tears?” He stopped and closed his eyes for a few seconds. “But at least you don’t need to translate a painting.”

He wondered for a second if his clan had been teaching painting before the big fight that broke it in half. “I think at one point we had someone that was painting. He mostly helped with the Vallashin. But again my clan was a bit special.” He let out a humourless chuckle. “Someone never teach me. I don’t even know who I can make paint. My clan wasn’t really teaching anything except writing and reading. Oh and surviving when you are a warrior or a mage.”

[dexukidoessolas]

Solas looked at him and saw a glimpse of sadness in his eyes. He was aware of the circumstances surrounding Feywen’s clan and knew that it caused him pain.

“If you are interested, I would be willing to teach you? Come…” He directed him to the smallest section of the design sketch.

“The design here is simple enough, it is best to start small and build your way up.”

He picked up a fresco brush and dipped it into a bowl of water and pigment and carefully started to build the colour up, watching as the plaster absorbed the vibrancy.

He turned to Feywen who had been watching intently.

“Here.” He passed him the brush and bowl and stepped out of the way, moving to stand at his side to direct him.

“The key is to build the colour up gradually, not overloading the brush with pigment.”

He watched as Feywen followed his instructions and gently guided him when he seemed unsure.

“Well done. You are becoming quite proficient at this.”

He smiled at him warmly. He had grown to care for him a great deal and that brought him both comfort and a huge amount of pain.

With Feywen distracted and concentrating intently on painting, Solas grasped the opportunity to try and coax the young man out of his shell.

“Have you heard news of your clan, Feywen? Have they sent you any letters?”

[feywen]

Feywen made such a happy face when Solas proposed to teach him, he was practically glowing with joy. But when the brush was inside his hand he panicked. What if he messed it up??

He swallowed hard and tried to focus on the sketch. It wasn’t perfect at all, and he often either put too much water or too much paint. He felt like a child. When Solas praised him, he almost looked like a Mabari that just received a treat. He pushed his hair out of his face, putting paint all over his face. How did he managed to even get paint all over his hands? That was a mystery.

“I.. think It’s not really my thing. I am just staining everything.” He laughed but he didn’t stopped. He focused even more and barely register Solas questions so he answered before speaking.

“They didn’t dissolved the clan yet and they still live in Wycome along side city elf and human for now. I guess they are fine? I don’t know it’s Cullen that gave me the news a while back now. I.. am glad I avoid a purge. I can’t imagine what it would have been if I.. what if I messed it up? They would have been dead because of me. They are not really family but.” He stopped and shook his head. The brush was crushed against the sketch leaving a reddish spot almost looking like blood. “ah sorry the painting..”

[dexukidoessolas]

“Not to worry, it can be rectified easily enough.” Solas had deliberately chosen that particular section in case mistakes were made.

“And it is natural to be concerned about the wellbeing of your clan, regardless of the relationship you have with them. You grew up with them. We cling desperately to what is familiar, even if it causes us pain. It is a rare thing to welcome change with open arms, even if the change is necessary. It is not easy to let go…” He trailed off, lost in thought for a second before coming back to his senses.

“You seem to have made friends within the Inquisition, however. That must provide you some comfort. Cole, for one, enjoys your company and in my experience, it is not a bad thing to have a spirit of compassion hold you in high regard.“ He chuckled softly as he continued to guide Feywen with his painting.

“You have grown close with Iron Bull as well, I believe? It is good that you have found companionship here. A great deal rests upon your shoulders and it would be asking a lot of you to carry that burden alone.”

Solas hoped that bringing his attention to the good that surrounded him at Skyhold would be enough to lift his spirit.

“There… You have done an excellent job. When I finish this and start on the next piece you can assist me in applying the plaster, if you like? I would welcome the extra pair of hands.”

[feywen]

"But something familiar isn't always good. Letting go is the better thing to do with a lot." Feywen whispered looking at the red paint. "But what's familiar now is this. The Inquisition. We're like a big family, a bit broken, not really in good term but we are stuck together for the better or the worse."

He lessen his grip on the brush with a smile, letting the warm feeling of being love and people caring about him wash over him. "So I welcome this change. I met you, Bull, Cole, Leliana and everyone. You are a lot more family to me."

He looked at Solas with a small smirk. "You are closer to Cole than anyone. Except maybe Varric. I like him a lot even if sometime he just.. say things I wish he wouldn't say. But he does it to help so I can't really be mad at him. He always tries his best.."

His face went all red at the mention of Iron Bull and he quickly shook his hands. "a-ah it's not- I mean he's really- but I won't- he probably doesn't-" he stopped realising that he was rambling and not making any senses. "is it that obvious? Please tell me I am not making the puppy eyes in his back." He joked slightly to push away his embarrassment.

"This.. burden. It's not really one. I could die to save everyone I wouldn't mind. I wished I could carry it alone and not involved everyone. I don't want to lose any of you against this.. this Creature. Corypheus." He did put more venom in his voice then intended.

Looking back at the wall, he grimaced seeing all the mistake. It was a terrible job. But it warm his heart. Terrible meant improvement can be done, it meant he could waste hours on learning something.

"Can I really assist you? I might messed it up. I wouldn't want to make you angry with me."

[feywen]

Nostalgia hurts

Feywen was looking over the library, down to see Solas working on the gorgeous painting on the walls. A sigh escaped​ his lips, looking at the older elf always made him feels some kind of nostalgia. He missed his clan despite not really having good relationship with them. It was still a home with people like him. Here he was mostly near human that looked at him weird. And Sera wasn’t really.. nostalgia. Sera was more “human” then elf.

He could always go down and talk to Solas but.. he knew Solas didn’t really like his clan and he mostly didn’t wanted to interrupt him while he was working. It wasn’t like he could just go over and ask for a hug. He wasn’t a child anymore and he couldn’t be weak. He let out a low hiss when his hand started glowing. Maybe he should see him for that, Solas seemed to know a lot about that.

“Solas?” His voice was weaker then intended when he finally walked down to have a talk.

@dexukidoessolas

[dexukidoessolas]

“Good afternoon, Feywen.”

Solas turned and smiled at the young elf, his eyes drawn to his faintly glowing hand and noticed as he flinched, clutching it to his chest.

“The mark is causing you pain again…” he said, quietly, eyebrows knitting together.

“Come. Take a seat.”

He wiped his hands on the cloth draped over his arm and set down his equipment. He walked over and placed a hand on Feywen’s shoulder as he guided him to the cream coloured divan and knelt in front of him whilst he sat, taking his left hand in his.

He studied the inflamed mark, gently running a finger across the scar and closed his eyes, summoning enough magic to ease his pain.

The glow lessened and he watched as relief washed over Feywen’s face.

He was a quiet young man, it was part of his nature, yet Solas could sense there was something more troubling him.

He stood up and sat beside him.

“How are you feeling, Feywen? Besides the mark causing you discomfort, of course…”

He was aware of the difficulty Feywen had at conveying his feelings in spoken words.

“If it helps, perhaps you could write it down?”

[feywen]

Feeling the magic appeasing the mark felt like putting something cold over it, appeasing the burn into something uncomfortable but not painful.

“thank you for taking care of this..” Feywen whispered with a light embarrassed blush, he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t control this sort of pain.

He opened his mouth to started talking before closing it again with forcing a smile.

“I am feeling fine. The mark was just acting up again and well.. since you are the only one who know how it works I wanted to ask you about it.”

In the end he just cowardly shut himself. He shouldn’t bother anyone just because he was some kind of homesick.

“How’s the painting going?”

[dexukidoessolas]

Solas sensed that Feywen didn’t want confide in him about his troubles, or was maybe too afraid to do so, although he had his own suspicions of what may be causing him upset.

He looked at the fresco that adorned the room.

“I am making progress. You are giving me plenty material to work with after all.”

He smiled and thought if Feywen didn’t wish to talk, a distraction might help instead.

He stood up from the divan and walked over to the wall he had been working on before Feywen had entered the room.

“As I wandered the Fade, I saw countless memories where such works of art were bountiful, especially during the time of Arlathan. The ancient elves seemed to prefer recording their history in pigment and plaster rather than writing.”

He picked up his equipment once more. He had finally finished the underlayer of wet plaster along with the design sketch. It had taken him hours to complete and it was now ready to absorb the mixture of pigment and water he had prepared earlier. It was an incredibly taxing endeavour but he enjoyed the hours he lost himself in creating. It was the only time his mind was still and felt a sense of peace.

“I watched as a young man spent his days creating, witnessed his anger as he realised mistakes and had to scrape them away to start again. His hands rough and calloused, his back aching, tears of frustration falling from his eyes yet… When he had finished, his face was a picture of wonder. He was in awe of what his own hands had created and the pain he experienced was worth it as it gave way to the joy he felt at his accomplishment. I watched many of this young man’s memories and I decided to teach myself the technique. It is a shame there are very few living practitioners left.”

He smiled wistfully and a hint of sadness flashed in his eyes.

“I’m aware of a few Dalish clans that practise this art form although on a much smaller scale. Were you taught about it in your clan?“

[feywen]

Feywen listened, captive by the memory, watching with interest the work of art on the wall. How can someone create something that beautiful? It must have took years of practice. How was it in Arlathan? How many painting where there? How many years did they took to make? Why did they got destroy? Art was beautiful why did it need to get destroyed with Arlathan?.. it was such a shame.

He slowly got up to walk toward Solas so he could watch as the other pain. As he walked he put his hand on the wall feeling the painting, wondering how much frustration and tears had been put through it. Especially when you are learning by yourself.

“And that young man never thought on giving up? If he didn’t enjoy painting it, why did it keep going? Because the results would be beautiful? But was it worth the anger and the tears?” He stopped and closed his eyes for a few seconds. “But at least you don’t need to translate a painting.”

He wondered for a second if his clan had been teaching painting before the big fight that broke it in half. “I think at one point we had someone that was painting. He mostly helped with the Vallashin. But again my clan was a bit special.” He let out a humourless chuckle. “Someone never teach me. I don’t even know who I can make paint. My clan wasn’t really teaching anything except writing and reading. Oh and surviving when you are a warrior or a mage.”

[dexukidoessolas]

Solas looked at him and saw a glimpse of sadness in his eyes. He was aware of the circumstances surrounding Feywen’s clan and knew that it caused him pain.

“If you are interested, I would be willing to teach you? Come…” He directed him to the smallest section of the design sketch.

“The design here is simple enough, it is best to start small and build your way up.”

He picked up a fresco brush and dipped it into a bowl of water and pigment and carefully started to build the colour up, watching as the plaster absorbed the vibrancy.

He turned to Feywen who had been watching intently.

“Here.” He passed him the brush and bowl and stepped out of the way, moving to stand at his side to direct him.

“The key is to build the colour up gradually, not overloading the brush with pigment.”

He watched as Feywen followed his instructions and gently guided him when he seemed unsure.

“Well done. You are becoming quite proficient at this.”

He smiled at him warmly. He had grown to care for him a great deal and that brought him both comfort and a huge amount of pain.

With Feywen distracted and concentrating intently on painting, Solas grasped the opportunity to try and coax the young man out of his shell.

“Have you heard news of your clan, Feywen? Have they sent you any letters?”

[feywen]

Feywen made such a happy face when Solas proposed to teach him, he was practically glowing with joy. But when the brush was inside his hand he panicked. What if he messed it up??

He swallowed hard and tried to focus on the sketch. It wasn’t perfect at all, and he often either put too much water or too much paint. He felt like a child. When Solas praised him, he almost looked like a Mabari that just received a treat. He pushed his hair out of his face, putting paint all over his face. How did he managed to even get paint all over his hands? That was a mystery.

“I.. think It’s not really my thing. I am just staining everything.” He laughed but he didn’t stopped. He focused even more and barely register Solas questions so he answered before speaking.

“They didn’t dissolved the clan yet and they still live in Wycome along side city elf and human for now. I guess they are fine? I don’t know it’s Cullen that gave me the news a while back now. I.. am glad I avoid a purge. I can’t imagine what it would have been if I.. what if I messed it up? They would have been dead because of me. They are not really family but.” He stopped and shook his head. The brush was crushed against the sketch leaving a reddish spot almost looking like blood. “ah sorry the painting..”

[feywen]

Feywen past

The Lavellan clan is different than most dalish clans. The Lavellan people openly traded with humans and respected them, whilst still trying to preserve their own culture. However the clan used to be bigger sadly they had split up upon their belief and hate against humans.

It's in this clan that Feywen was born, when the clan was still big. Both of his parents were mages and his mother was the keeper of the whole clan. It was a disappointment and at the same time a relief when Feywen turned out to have little to no affinity with magic. However he was already looking at the few archer, picking up bow as soon as he could crawl.

He was around ten when the big fight happen. The Keeper wanted to break up the trade with the human as she was getting tired of the way they acted and by Mythal they never deserved that. However she didn't wanted to stop the trade like that, she wanted to sacrifice some of the warrior or mage in order to make the human responsible. Fight had begun to occurn inside the clan between two distinct party. The one that wanted to keep their good interaction with human and the one following the keeper.

Being a ten years old in a middle of a fight that he didn't really understood was harder on Feywen so he mostly sneak out of the clan to learn how to use a bow without asking anyone for help, not like they would provide. After all he was supposed to be the apprentice of the keeper but he didn't even had magic despite both of his parents being mage. A discrace. Maybe that was why his parents never really care until the 'war' exploded inside the clan.

One day, The Keeper violently pulled him near the biggest campfire when he was fifteen years old and asked him if he was ready to be adult. With the lack of response, she forced the young elf to look at her in the eyes saying that he had already killed his first animals and so was ready to be considerate as an adult. She had least let him choose the Vallashin before painting it right under his eyes to get the motif right. The pain was so intense that Feywen didn't remembered most of it. It was like fire licking his face and marking him. He couldn't even scream or cry because it would be a sign of weakness, a sign that he wasn't ready. He was afraid of how his mother and father would react if he disappointed them once again. So he bite on his tongue, feeling the blood exploded inside his mouth. He knew he should feel proud to have his Vallaslin earlier then the other, it proved that he was already an adult but the pain almost made him passed out. He begged in his mind the Creators to make him strong enough to stand the pain. He begged Mythal, Andruil and when he was on the verge of passing out, he caught himself to beg Fen'Harel.

When he opened his eyes, he finally felt something wet rushing down his cheek, he had guessed it was water to wash off the blood when his mother looked at him with much softer eyes. He felt himself smile until he realized what had just happen.

It wasn't really to prove he was an adult. It was that he became a warrior, his mother wanted to use him for her fight. It wasn't love. It never was love.

The next week, Feywen stayed with  one of the elder elf inside the clan, she was a lovely mage and immediately cursed as she saw the Vallashin on such a young child. It wasn't what the gods wanted, she had said. It must have been Fen'Harel tricking them, she cursed.

Feywen didn't even wanted to answer and closed his eyes, locking up his heart, casting his emotions of pain, betray and sadness tightly inside his heart. They would never come out again.

Just a few weeks after, the fight broke down. His mother was screaming louder and louder each words escaping her lips, cursing at everyone saying she had lost her mind, that Fen'Harel was playing tricks on her. Even his father was taking distance from his mother. Feywen took a couple of step back, not wanting to anger his mother even more just waiting for her to calm down but when he saw her throwing a fire ball near the old woman that cared of him for years, he took his bow and fire before even thinking about it. The arrow lodge itself between his mother's eyes. He didn't even flinch even her lifeless body hit the ground. Instead he turned around and bowed before the old woman.

« Keeper. I suggest that we leave since we are well past our welcome stay. »

That how the Lavellan clan pulled apart when Feywen reached fifteen years old.

And here is it. Feywen back story. Or at least a resume of it. It might change a bit, might polish it into something better. Honestly it came inside my head after a nightmare ahah. I must have played too much Dragon Age this day. It’s very.. angst I guess? Not that bad but I am not so happy with the way I wrote it. Feywen dad is still alive somewhere with half of the other clan. Only his mother is dead that’s why they have a ‘difficult relationship’. His father hate him for what he done and all that jazz. Anyway. It’s just a small story. Feywen is a rather happy, gentle and compassionate person to be around. He even like to crack jokes and pulled prank.

[feywen]

{I kinda want to write Feywen past. Will anyone be interested in reading it??}

[feywen]

Nostalgia hurts

Feywen was looking over the library, down to see Solas working on the gorgeous painting on the walls. A sigh escaped​ his lips, looking at the older elf always made him feels some kind of nostalgia. He missed his clan despite not really having good relationship with them. It was still a home with people like him. Here he was mostly near human that looked at him weird. And Sera wasn’t really.. nostalgia. Sera was more “human” then elf.

He could always go down and talk to Solas but.. he knew Solas didn’t really like his clan and he mostly didn’t wanted to interrupt him while he was working. It wasn’t like he could just go over and ask for a hug. He wasn’t a child anymore and he couldn’t be weak. He let out a low hiss when his hand started glowing. Maybe he should see him for that, Solas seemed to know a lot about that.

“Solas?” His voice was weaker then intended when he finally walked down to have a talk.

@dexukidoessolas

[dexukidoessolas]

“Good afternoon, Feywen.”

Solas turned and smiled at the young elf, his eyes drawn to his faintly glowing hand and noticed as he flinched, clutching it to his chest.

“The mark is causing you pain again…” he said, quietly, eyebrows knitting together.

“Come. Take a seat.”

He wiped his hands on the cloth draped over his arm and set down his equipment. He walked over and placed a hand on Feywen’s shoulder as he guided him to the cream coloured divan and knelt in front of him whilst he sat, taking his left hand in his.

He studied the inflamed mark, gently running a finger across the scar and closed his eyes, summoning enough magic to ease his pain.

The glow lessened and he watched as relief washed over Feywen’s face.

He was a quiet young man, it was part of his nature, yet Solas could sense there was something more troubling him.

He stood up and sat beside him.

“How are you feeling, Feywen? Besides the mark causing you discomfort, of course…”

He was aware of the difficulty Feywen had at conveying his feelings in spoken words.

“If it helps, perhaps you could write it down?”

[feywen]

Feeling the magic appeasing the mark felt like putting something cold over it, appeasing the burn into something uncomfortable but not painful.

“thank you for taking care of this..” Feywen whispered with a light embarrassed blush, he didn’t like the fact that he couldn’t control this sort of pain.

He opened his mouth to started talking before closing it again with forcing a smile.

“I am feeling fine. The mark was just acting up again and well.. since you are the only one who know how it works I wanted to ask you about it.”

In the end he just cowardly shut himself. He shouldn’t bother anyone just because he was some kind of homesick.

“How’s the painting going?”

[dexukidoessolas]

Solas sensed that Feywen didn’t want confide in him about his troubles, or was maybe too afraid to do so, although he had his own suspicions of what may be causing him upset.

He looked at the fresco that adorned the room.

“I am making progress. You are giving me plenty material to work with after all.”

He smiled and thought if Feywen didn’t wish to talk, a distraction might help instead.

He stood up from the divan and walked over to the wall he had been working on before Feywen had entered the room.

“As I wandered the Fade, I saw countless memories where such works of art were bountiful, especially during the time of Arlathan. The ancient elves seemed to prefer recording their history in pigment and plaster rather than writing.”

He picked up his equipment once more. He had finally finished the underlayer of wet plaster along with the design sketch. It had taken him hours to complete and it was now ready to absorb the mixture of pigment and water he had prepared earlier. It was an incredibly taxing endeavour but he enjoyed the hours he lost himself in creating. It was the only time his mind was still and felt a sense of peace.

“I watched as a young man spent his days creating, witnessed his anger as he realised mistakes and had to scrape them away to start again. His hands rough and calloused, his back aching, tears of frustration falling from his eyes yet… When he had finished, his face was a picture of wonder. He was in awe of what his own hands had created and the pain he experienced was worth it as it gave way to the joy he felt at his accomplishment. I watched many of this young man’s memories and I decided to teach myself the technique. It is a shame there are very few living practitioners left.”

He smiled wistfully and a hint of sadness flashed in his eyes.

“I’m aware of a few Dalish clans that practise this art form although on a much smaller scale. Were you taught about it in your clan?“

[feywen]

Feywen listened, captive by the memory, watching with interest the work of art on the wall. How can someone create something that beautiful? It must have took years of practice. How was it in Arlathan? How many painting where there? How many years did they took to make? Why did they got destroy? Art was beautiful why did it need to get destroyed with Arlathan?.. it was such a shame.

He slowly got up to walk toward Solas so he could watch as the other pain. As he walked he put his hand on the wall feeling the painting, wondering how much frustration and tears had been put through it. Especially when you are learning by yourself.

"And that young man never thought on giving up? If he didn't enjoy painting it, why did it keep going? Because the results would be beautiful? But was it worth the anger and the tears?" He stopped and closed his eyes for a few seconds. "But at least you don't need to translate a painting."

He wondered for a second if his clan had been teaching painting before the big fight that broke it in half. "I think at one point we had someone that was painting. He mostly helped with the Vallashin. But again my clan was a bit special." He let out a humourless chuckle. "Someone never teach me. I don't even know who I can make paint. My clan wasn't really teaching anything except writing and reading. Oh and surviving when you are a warrior or a mage."

[feywen]

Nostalgia hurts

Feywen was looking over the library, down to see Solas working on the gorgeous painting on the walls. A sigh escaped​ his lips, looking at the older elf always made him feels some kind of nostalgia. He missed his clan despite not really having good relationship with them. It was still a home with people like him. Here he was mostly near human that looked at him weird. And Sera wasn’t really.. nostalgia. Sera was more “human” then elf.

He could always go down and talk to Solas but.. he knew Solas didn’t really like his clan and he mostly didn’t wanted to interrupt him while he was working. It wasn’t like he could just go over and ask for a hug. He wasn’t a child anymore and he couldn’t be weak. He let out a low hiss when his hand started glowing. Maybe he should see him for that, Solas seemed to know a lot about that.

“Solas?” His voice was weaker then intended when he finally walked down to have a talk.

@dexukidoessolas

[dexukidoessolas]

“Good afternoon, Feywen.”

Solas turned and smiled at the young elf, his eyes drawn to his faintly glowing hand and noticed as he flinched, clutching it to his chest.

“The mark is causing you pain again…” he said, quietly, eyebrows knitting together.

“Come. Take a seat.”

He wiped his hands on the cloth draped over his arm and set down his equipment. He walked over and placed a hand on Feywen’s shoulder as he guided him to the cream coloured divan and knelt in front of him whilst he sat, taking his left hand in his.

He studied the inflamed mark, gently running a finger across the scar and closed his eyes, summoning enough magic to ease his pain.

The glow lessened and he watched as relief washed over Feywen’s face.

He was a quiet young man, it was part of his nature, yet Solas could sense there was something more troubling him.

He stood up and sat beside him.

“How are you feeling, Feywen? Besides the mark causing you discomfort, of course…”

He was aware of the difficulty Feywen had at conveying his feelings in spoken words.

“If it helps, perhaps you could write it down?”

[feywen]

Feeling the magic appeasing the mark felt like putting something cold over it, appeasing the burn into something uncomfortable but not painful.

"thank you for taking care of this.." Feywen whispered with a light embarrassed blush, he didn't like the fact that he couldn't control this sort of pain.

He opened his mouth to started talking before closing it again with forcing a smile.

"I am feeling fine. The mark was just acting up again and well.. since you are the only one who know how it works I wanted to ask you about it."

In the end he just cowardly shut himself. He shouldn't bother anyone just because he was some kind of homesick.

"How's the painting going?"

[feywen]

Nostalgia hurts

Feywen was looking over the library, down to see Solas working on the gorgeous painting on the walls. A sigh escaped​ his lips, looking at the older elf always made him feels some kind of nostalgia. He missed his clan despite not really having good relationship with them. It was still a home with people like him. Here he was mostly near human that looked at him weird. And Sera wasn’t really.. nostalgia. Sera was more “human” then elf.

He could always go down and talk to Solas but.. he knew Solas didn’t really like his clan and he mostly didn’t wanted to interrupt him while he was working. It wasn’t like he could just go over and ask for a hug. He wasn’t a child anymore and he couldn’t be weak. He let out a low hiss when his hand started glowing. Maybe he should see him for that, Solas seemed to know a lot about that.

“Solas?” His voice was weaker then intended when he finally walked down to have a talk.

@dexukidoessolas

[morgendag]

sad ? maybe. sentences.

“ It’s harder than you think. ”

“ I don’t know… how to explain it. ”

“ It hurts… a lot, not every time but… at same time, every time.”

“ There’s this major gap inside my chest, a void that makes me ill. ”

“ – I wake up in the middle of the night not recognizing myself. ”

“ I just… want something better, you feel? ”

“ I truly am selfish. “

“ Shut up! As if you understand. ”

“ When – When did you ever stop and think about me in all this ?”

“ What do you want me to do???”

“ I can’t keep ignoring it forever, ( name ) !“

“ You — You weren’t supposed to see that. “

“ I used to… but… not anymore. ”

“ I’ve stayed clean! I have been good! I have TRIED, okay? ”

“ It feels like I’m running and running… without getting further away. “

“ What you see is not what I see, okay. ”

“ That — Person in the mirror… it’s not me, it’s not m e. ”

“ I don’t know what hurts me the most, myself or you. “

“ Have you… ever — you know ? “

“ I regret it. Until this very day… I regret it.”

“ I regret it all. “

“ Please don’t make me look at it. “

“ It’s not like I expect you to understand. “

“ It’s… as if you’re not even trying. “

“ …could you try…? For us at least? ”

[trickormemes]

Dragon Age: Inquisition starter sentences

part 1 of ??? 30 starters feel free to change gender pronouns content warning: violence

“Alright, nice going with the weird magic fire.”

“Can’t a man think without being judged for it?”

“I’ve seen better. Hard not to.”

“Does that noise ever stop?”

“I aim to please.”

“Do you think about how to kill everyone you meet?”

“You only lack the will to get more blood on your hands.”

“I AM the most dangerous thing in the room, darling.”

“You doing alright, _____? I heard you breathing a little hard after the last fight.”

“Today is a good day. Today is a very good day.”

“Is there a reason for the interrogation?”

“I can’t fly, you daft tit!”

“Would you prefer me bound and leashed?”

“I enjoy fighting at your side, _____.”

“You are strong, and your mind is sharp. You will solve problems others cannot.”

“No man can kill so many people without breaking inside. To survive… those you fight must become monsters.”

“_____, did you clean your weapon after the last fight?”

“You don’t want to talk about yourself. I can respect that. So what DO we talk about then?”

“Oh, would you look at that! That is magnificent!”

“Calm down, I meant no offense.”

“Or! Wait! No! Better idea! Ice cream in beer!”

“You stand there, flexing your muscles, huffing like some beast of burden, with no thought save conquest.”

“I’m not certain that’s a compliment.”

“_____, a woman in the last village wanted you to pick her up and take her clothes off.”

“You’re making it awkward.”

“The mind does marvelous things to protect itself.”

“Magic works best when responsibly supervised, for the safety and protection of all.”

“Let’s talk about your dark and troubled past.”

“_____, I want you to know: you’re the best.”

“I’m not backing down!”

[apostatehobolife]

Hello there! Since love interested aren't resume to only Female elf maybe I should try my hand at flirting? *Wink wink*

Ah… what have we here?

A pretty one.

[smollmikey]

“secretly we all love angst” Sentence Starters

dont deny it DONT DENY IT 

“It never works for us, and it never will.”

“I’m done. I’m done trying so hard only for you to never even look in my direction.”

“I can’t fall in love with you.  I don’t want all the pain that comes with it.”

“My roommate had to go into my room and throw the sheets away because I haven’t been able to sleep in that bed since you left.”

“I keep asking myself “why isn’t the sun bright anymore” but then I remember you’re not in my life anymore and realize it’s just my own eyes.”

“I regret it all.  I really do, I swear.  Please, please– let’s fix this, please.”

“Remember when you promised we’d always be together?  Because I remember when I thought you meant it.”

“I can’t move on from something that wasn’t supposed to end!”

“The phone calls aren’t the same… I can hear in your voice that it’s not the same anymore.”

“I’m trying to avoid talking because I know what it’ll lead to, and I don’t want that to come.”

“Don’t you think you can fall back in love with me?”

“This whole time I’ve been using you to make me feel better, and you never caught on.  You never caught on.  I want you to hate me now, but I don’t think you’re even able to.”

“Kissing me breaks the promise… remember?”

“Every time we fix things something else ends up breaking.”

“Why don’t we stop pretending we’re not on a road to destruction?”

“It wasn’t even fun at first, honestly.  It was just like… Morphine.”

“You’re just not enough anymore.”

“It’s been too long since you’ve really smiled.”

“Ah, it was all my fault.  Wasn’t it?”

“To think, we thought just the sex would be enough to keep us in love.”

“Back then, I lied when I told you I didn’t love you.  You needed to move on from me– I needed to protect you from me.”

“You never had that shine in your eyes when you were with me.”

“Quit trying to fix me when you need to just fix yourself.”

“I’m so tired of everything about us, and about how we thought we were in love, and how we think forcing it can make us be in love– I’m so tired of it.”

“This whole time you’ve still been in love with him/her… Not me.”

“I couldn’t make you fall in love with me.  I thought I could do it, I really did, but… But I know you… And this isn’t love.”

“Did you really think I needed that kiss back then when all that you conveyed in it was pity?”

“To think I’ve changed so much to get you to like me, and you still never really look my way.”

“I know I deserve better than you.  I realize that, but you were so broken… I didn’t want to be the one that made you shatter.”

“All of this was to protect myself.”

“I feel like I’ve been looking for who you used to be… Back when you were actually happy.”

“I never want to even hear your name during my life anymore.”

“Your lips used to be sanctuary, but now I just feel trapped.”

“Isn’t it time we both stopped pretending we make each other happy?”

“The thing I regret the most is giving you so much hope by agreeing to this date.”

“We have the kind of history anyone would never want to think about again, and you’re hear asking me on a date?”

“What makes you think I’ll be any different this time?”

“I’ll let you down.  I will always let you down.  I’m not enough for you to be satisfied.”

“Are you satisfied with the mess you’ve created out of me?”

“I should have listened to everyone who told me this was a bad idea.”

“I’ve never met someone who can so gently destroy me the way you do.”

“I can’t forget about him/her!  It’s not in my power to forget how he/she felt when they loved me.”

“The saddest thing is that when I told him/her I loved him/her, he/she thought I was lying.  He/she never believed someone could fall in love with him/her.”

“Listen…  You’re his/her best friend… and I completely fucked up– it’s over between us, but… please, punch me, or punish me, or do something to me because he/she just… cried.  He/she wasn’t even angry, they were just so sad– Please, be angry at me, please.  Give me what I deserve.”

“It would have been better if we never met.”

“You’re my regret.”

“I’m not angry at you, just at myself… Because I knew this would happen, but I let myself fall in love with you anyways.”

“Don’t tell me to give up like everything is meaningless.”

“This is why I don’t let myself fall in love.”

“Somewhere deep inside me, I still have hope that you’ll fall in love.  How pathetic.”

send a sentence and a name xx

[feywen]

Nonsexual acts of Intimacy - Select from the following for my muse to respond to...

♔ : Finding your muse wearing their clothes

♕: Holding hands

♖: Having their hair washed by your muse

♗: Your muse falling asleep with their head in my muse's lap.

♘: Cuddling in a blanket fort

♙: Sharing a bed

♚: Head scratches

♛: Sharing a dessert

♜: Shoulder rubs

♝: Reading a book together

♞: Caring for each other while ill (specify which party is which)

♟: Patching up a wound

♤: Taking a bath together

♧: Your muse playing with their hair

♡: Accidentally falling asleep together

♢: Forehead or cheek kisses

♠: Your muse adjusting their jewelry/neck tie/ etc.

♣: Back scratches

♥: Your muse crying about something

♦: Slow dancing

[snowkillwhite]

Name: Lavellan Feywen.

Given surname: Fey.

Age: 26 years old.

Personality: can be rather playful with Iron Bull and Sera. Is in awe about everything related to the Fade and to the ancient elven culture. Really secretive. He doesn’t like showing weakness and talk about what’s bothering him. He prefer to stay silent and smiled through it. Be it internal problem or health problem. Always always wait the last second before healing. Despite being an archer, he would rather be in the heat of the battle and protect everyone he can instead of being in the far back, protected by warrior. The mark on his hand is always painful.

Companion relationship :

-He is in utter love with The Iron Bull and always seek his approval and how to get him to noticw him. Battling Dragons is nothing if he can get his approval. He loves drinking with him and joking. He knew Bull is the best spy and warrior

-He considered Solas as a brother and the feeling is mutual.

-He loves how motherly Dorian can get and his sass.

-He admired how strong Cassandra can be.

-He used to admire Blackwall for being a grey warden but now he is impressed by his need to make amends.

-He always like to play prank with Sera and love how easy going she is with things in her life.

-Cole is the little brother Feywen always wanted to have. He will protect him with all his strength. Cole is the one that understand him the most and at the same time confused the most.

-Vivienne is probably the most difficult woman he ever met. She is strong, independent and yet despite not sharing the same view about magic, he can’t help but be reassured by her presence since she wouldn’t mind tell him if he is doing something wrong directly.

-Cullen. Feywen always loves to tease Cullen about almost everything. This big, strong man is so easily embarrassed that it never fail to make him laugh. But despite everything, he is always silently seeking for Cullen validation on his war decision. He will never let his men die or be at high risk.

-Josephine is always at her best and Feywen end up always wondering how is she doing. He loves talking with her.

-Leliana is probably Feywen favorites person after Bull. After all she is been through she is still standing proudly. He loved to hear about her story with the Heroine of Ferendel and how she is arranging meeting sometime. He managed to smooth her and intend on making her the next Divine.

History: Feywen is a really silent person. He would rather write down what he want then say it in person. When he was living with his clan there was huge dispute between them so they dismantle it and everyone went their way. From one clan, two were born. Feywen got separate from his parents since they had a ‘difficult relationship’ to go live with one of the elderly. Being one of the few archer since his clan was mostly mage and warrior, he had been mostly self taught. In current time he is learning with Leliana and Sera as teacher since they both used bow.

Rp companion so far: @etferrumtaurii as Iron Bull.

@avoiceofcompassion as cole

[feywen]

@avoiceofcompassion @etferrumtaurii {I moved my rping on this tumblr! Sorry for the trouble!!)