#adhlea lavellan

[ashalle-art]

Stories Beneath Stone ♡

Artwork I've been working on for the last month, for the DA Create-a-thon! It was so much fun, and even though this is still WIP and I sadly didn't get finished as I wanted, I already love this piece 👉👈

[shivunin]

Dawn Will Come

For day 1 of @dragonagekissweek: Morning, I wanted to revisit my Inquisitor during the events of Veilguard. Here is a quiet moment with Emmaera and her daughter in the Inquisitor's quarters of Skyhold:

(Inquisitor Lavellan & Cullavellan child, background Cullen/Lavellan | 1,374 Words | Mentions of the Blight and ensuing disasters)

In the midst of a Blight to end all Blights, dawn stretched weary fingers over the Frostbacks near Skyhold. 

Emmaera watched them from her balcony, her legs threaded through the pillars on the balustrade. Her bare feet were cold in the early air despite the enchantments woven around the old keep, but she could hardly complain. Here, at least, she could have a moment of solitude to grieve all that had been lost. 

The room behind her was full, bodies tucked into most of its available spaces. Emmaera’s sister and niece slept sideways on the oversized bed in the center of the room, wedged in beside Dagna and Sera. Somewhere on the balcony above, the Hawkes had set up an odd sort of encampment formed of blood-red draperies Emmaera had never once seen during her first occupancy in this place. Merrill and Isabela had curled against each other in the corner beyond, while Cassandra slept armored and vigilant beside the stairs, one hand resting on the unsheathed sword across her thighs. 

There had been days when Emmaera had loathed coming up to this room, had despised its stone and its solitude. Crowded as it was now, it was not nearly so packed as the grounds beyond were. Refugees from every country she could name had found places in the courtyard and along the ramparts, among the bookshelves and the cellars and even in the half-shattered prison cells below. The scant space between bodies in her quarters was a veritable wealth of privacy. 

And yet—here she was, seeking true solitude on the cold stone of the balcony and watching the sun climb slowly over the Frostbacks. 

How could they make it through this alive, let alone intact? How much more would it cost them to survive the horrors that had been brought to their collective doorstep? Would the wild animals she’d watched and chased as a child remain after all was done? Would the flowers, the butterflies, the elfroot she’d so carefully gathered for her potions? It was said that wide swathes of Thedas had been so ruined by Blights past that almost nothing could bring life to them. If that was the case everywhere the Blight touched now, what would be left to them even if they did live beyond it? 

Her hand wrapped around the stone and squeezed, squeezed, the stone unyielding and cold beneath her palm. 

Hope had never been her strength; to her bones, Lavellan had always been a pragmatist. She wanted to have hope. She wanted it badly, had tried to will it into her face and her voice whenever she spoke to the people huddled below. It felt like a lie no matter how much she knew they needed it, felt dishonest even if it improved morale. 

How long could they have here? How many more cities had fallen while she slept? How many more days of rations could they provide, how many—

“Mamae?”

A soft voice, the quiet pad of bare feet over stone. Emmaera turned her head and found her daughter, hair a nimbus of gold in the soft light of dawn. She must have woken recently, for there were blanket wrinkles pressed into her cheek and sleep drying in the corners of her eyes. 

“Good morning,” Emma told her, uncurling her hand from the pillar one finger at a time. “Is everything all right, darling?” 

Adhlea shook her head and moved closer. 

“Someone’s snoring again,” she said solemnly, as if delivering dire news. Circles rimmed her eyes, and for a moment she looked so much like her father that Emmaera could think of nothing to say in response. 

Adhlea, still unused to sharing a room even after the past few months, was more sensitive to noise than the other children. Hawke had sworn she’d slept like a log the entire time their group had been running through the Fade, but since their arrival at Skyhold she had been fitful and restless. More often than not, Emma woke to find her somewhere other than where she’d gone to sleep, often with a blanket or pillow or cloak tucked over her faintly pointed ears. 

“What are you looking at?” she asked after a moment, fist scrubbing over her eyes. Emma shifted backward and held out her arm. Without hesitation, Adhlea slumped into her lap and leaned her head against Emmaera’s chest. 

In Kirkwall, before the lot of them had been forced to flee or die, Emma had worried that her eldest daughter had grown too old for this sort of affection. She had a sort of prepossession beyond her age, an occasional fervor for being right and seeming independent that had already begun to preclude public expressions of affection. Lavellan had mourned this loss, had thought many times of how small Adhlea had been only a year ago, how she had fallen asleep in her lap when they’d read together in the evenings. 

Perhaps she should be worried that Adhlea had gone back to curling up against her of late. Lavellan could not find space within her for more worry, and considered it a rare gift instead.

“The dawn comes up over that peak there,” Emma told her, pointing to the mountain in question before smoothing her hand over her daughter’s golden curls. “See how it splits the light into stripes?”

“Yes,” Adhlea said through a yawn. “Like a drawing.”

“Just like,” Emma agreed.

 The sun was rising in truth now, bringing life and color to the dull grey below. Already, people were moving from place to place along the ramparts and in the terraces. She did not watch them. She watched the sky instead, the broken lines of morning slanting through the clouds and bare, frigid air above. The peak cast a shadow over them, shattering the light to pieces as it struggled upward. 

How long? She thought, and stroked her fingertips through downy golden hair. How long do we have left?

“You’re going to win,” Adhlea said unexpectedly. 

Emmaera looked down at her, startled, but her daughter’s eyes were closed. Veins ran under the skin, delicate traceries of pale green-blue. She was so very fragile, would be so easy to lose. What was one child against the loss of millions? What was one life against the destruction of their entire world?

“You won before,” Adlea went on, the syllables stretching out as she yawned again. “You’ll win again. You will, Mamae.” 

Emma watched a teardrop spill onto the mass of golden hair, darkening it from wheat-gold to the color of fresh-baked bread. She bent and pressed a kiss over the spot, shutting her eyes tightly against the pressure of more tears. 

“I love you, my dear,” she told her daughter, and cradled her head against her chest. “Of course I will.”

“I know you will,” the child murmured. 

Slowly, her body went slack and loose in Emma’s lap. She sniffled as quietly as she could manage and pressed another kiss to Adhlea’s head. 

When she opened her eyes, the sun had had last dragged itself beyond the nearest peak of the Frostbacks. It shone unbroken on the snow below, refracting from a thousand, a million crystals of ice until it seemed that the air itself was made of light. A tear slipped down Emma’s cheek, but she pressed her face against Adhlea’s head before it could fall. 

They had beaten impossible odds before, she and her allies. They had no choice but to do so again. There had been a great deal at stake in those days, but she had even more to lose now. Pragmatic or not, Emmaera had to hope that there would be a world left for her children to live in. She had to hope that the light of dawns like this would reach for them regardless of the world that waited beyond, regardless of what had been lost.

She had to believe that they, too, would see the dawn scatter over the snow of the mountains and light their path forward, as it had done for Lavellan so many times.

What other choice did she have?

"We will beat this," she whispered to her sleeping daughter, and closed her eyes as her husband's steadying palm rested firm against her back. "I promise."

[sagecielle]

we are SO back

[spicywarl0ck]

See you later

Just a small thing I wrote to match @ashalle-art​​ ‘s beautiful sketch, because it inspired me <3 I got the permission to upload the art with the text attached <3

Her skin still glistened with the light film of sweat that built up during their actions. Blonde hair fell messily over her shoulder after she slipped into her tunic again, a lovely hue of red on her cheeks.

The word beautiful was not enough to describe how she looked right now, highlighted by the soft and warm light of the torches lighting up the Rotunda.

He had just dressed back into his tunic, his skin still prickling in remembrance of the intimate moment they’d shared just minutes ago. It had been a shared moment of bliss, her body so warm and soft underneath exploring fingers and lips.

Solas had enjoyed every tremble running through her, every hitch of breath escaping her soft lips as she writhed in his arms. There was nothing he would have wanted more than to just embrace her for a little longer, to feel the hands that caressed over his shaved scalp so carefully.

And yet, he knew that duty called them back and that there could not be more than a few stolen moments.

“I… should go and check in with the advisors….” Adhlea combed through her hair awkwardly after putting on her leg wrappings again, only the skin of her thighs exposed. Skin that was so incredibly soft to the touch.

“They might have received another report from Leliana’s scouts,” she added, brown eyes slowly moving from the ground to look at him. He watched as the flush on her cheeks deepened, causing his lips to twitch into a half-smile.

“Indeed,” Solas answered, hands clasped behind his back. “I shall go back to the translations I was reading through then. There is still much to do,” he added while holding her gaze. There was a flicker in her eyes, lips twitching as if she meant to say something but chose against it.

“Alright.” Adhlea nodded as she turned away, throwing him a last shy glance over her shoulder. “I’ll come by later?” she asked hopefully, only to briefly continue: “That is… if you aren’t too busy with your tasks at hand. I know that you are….”

Her words were cut off when he closed in to claim her lips passionately.

One of his hands touched her neck gently while the other snaked around to hold the back of her head, fingers brushing through blonde locks. Her neck craned up to meet his lips better, a soft breath getting lost between their lips as her slender hand stretched over the fabric of his tunic. 

It felt perfect in every way, heated and soft at the same time as they just took another moment for themselves.

Their breaths were ragged when they broke apart, her cheeks and tip of her ears a lovely pinkish hue as he released her slowly. 

“I’ll come by your quarters later, Vhenan,” he spoke up after a moment, a roguish smile on his lips that made her flush even more.

“A… alright.” she stuttered, the tiniest hint of a smile playing on the corner of her lips. “I’ll see you later then,” Adhlea added with a soft breath before turning around.

And for a moment, he just stood behind his desk, watching her depart like the love-struck fool he was.

[scharoux]

My little sweet pea, Adhlea Lavellan.

[varric-tethras-editor]

MEET ADHLEA LAVELLAN

THE BASICS:

Character’s name:

Adhlea Lavellan

Role in story:

Inquisitor

Physical description:

5'5 and 145lbs

Age:

27

MBTI/Enneagram Personality Type:

Logistician - ISTJ

--

LET'S ALL WELCOME ADHLEA TO MY OFFICIAL OC FAMILY 💖

Tags below the cut for all my fav DA online family. Think of this as your birth announcement email LOL

@kantrips @ellenembee @little-lightning-lavellan @fernaee @dreadfutures @emerald-amidst-gold @oxygenforthewicked @dungeons-and-dragon-age @blueheaded @the-dreadful-canine

@a-shakespearean-in-paris @cciarants @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold AND IF I FORGOT TO TAG YOU I STILL LOVE YOU SO MUCH I PROMISE

[heraldofthenug]

Here Lies The Abyss.

[empresstress13]

Art of my Adhlea Lavellan by the amazing and talented @hansaera !