#cora lavellan

[mik-arts]

Some outfit concepts of Cora from a year or two ago

[nightmareartic]

Wow I finally figured out how to connect my drawing tablet to my phone, so here's a comic I made!

:D

I know it's very simple but I didn't want to draw anything with detail as I'm getting used to my drawing tablet again (it's been a year since I've used it 😅).

ANYWAYS, in case you're wondering why my Inquisitor's sister (Cora) is there; I imagine she eventually joins the Inquisition and so she adventures out with him a lot. Though I think she's sick of having to fight dragons all the time...

[the-red-jenny]

“Tell me you don’t care.”

“I can’t”

“Tell me that I was just some casual dalliance so I can call you a cold hearted son of a bitch and move on”

- - - -

Even in his dreams, he could hear her words echo through him. He could feel her hurt and sorrow, as well as own. Fendhis, he muttered. Begrudgingly, he opened his eyes and looked around to see the soft glow of the torches in his room. He had fallen asleep at his desk again. He shifted and was surprised to feel a blanket draped over his shoulders. She had been here he thought to himself. He let out a long sigh.

It had been only a few weeks since he left his heart in Crestwood, for fear of what would happen if he didn’t. He couldn’t let his heart rule his head. He couldn’t forsake the hundreds of thousands of lives on his shoulders. There was too much at stake. How could he justify being happy when it was his fault things were this way? He had to fix it, no matter what it cost him.

Solas had been trying to be respectful in those days following Crestwood, but he still felt her eyes lingering on him whenever she passed him by. He had heard her being comforted by Dorian, and Leliana, and ... the Commander. He could feel the unspoken words in the air.

How could you?

He was a traitor once again. He knew he deserved all of it.

Of course, he still stole glimpses of her smile when she spoke to everyone else, but him. The gleam of joy in her eyes when she beat Varric at Wicked Grace or mastered a new technique in the courtyard never failed to leave him breathless. It was enough, he thought, to see her happy from afar. It was all he was allowed to have.

He was stunned on the day she cut off her hair. Her dark, charcoal hair had been long enough to caress the arch of her back, but was now barely grazing her chin. She was still as beautiful as ever, but when let his eyes rest on hers, and saw her staring back, he quickly retreated into his study.

After that, he couldn’t understand why she still asked him to accompany her on missions. He supposed it was good to keep someone with an extensive knowledge of healing spells handy, but she never spoke to him. Instead, she threw herself into every battle, twice as hard as she ever did before. The grace he had once complimented her on was now being used to swiftly and brutally cut down each enemy in her path, without a care for her own safety.

Was this his punishment? To heal every wound she took upon herself because of her anger?

The roar of a Hurlock Alpha quickly snapped him back to attention. The creature’s talons tore into his back, leaving several deep gashes. Solas quickly realized he had run out of mana and Lyrium potions, and cursed at himself for being so careless. Solas quickly cast Barrier, praying it would be enough for him to last long enough to see this fight through.

“Solas needs help!” He heard the Inquisitor yell. Even with the gashes in his back, he still felt his chest ache hearing her call his name. She quickly lept in front of him driving her daggers deep into the neck of the Darkspawn. With one last terrible cry, the creature fell dead on the floor.

Solas looked at the Inquisitor, bathed in Darkspawn blood and ichor. Gods, she was beautiful, he thought. Her breaths were heavy as she wrenched her blades free. He could feel the chill in the air as she passed him by. He wondered briefly if she regretted saving him.

“Good one, Boss!” Iron Bull exclaimed. The Qunari then handed Cora a health potion and turned his attention to his Tevinter companion. “Whaddaya think, Dorian? We’re ready to take on a dragon!”

“Take on a Dragon? Oh, no. If it's all the same to you, I’d rather take on a bath.”

Cora smiled at the two, clearly more than just friends. It was nice to see something good come of this, even now. She turned her attention to Solas, who was leaning a bit on his staff. He quickly turned his attention to his feet, not wanting to meet her gaze. He could hear her footsteps approaching him, and he braced himself for what he was sure was going to sting.

“Take this, Solas”

He looked up to see her offering the health potion to him. He wanted to respond, do anything other than just stare. He felt his legs fail him and he fell to his knees, still gripping onto his staff.

“Solas!” Cora exclaimed. Her voice wracked with worry. He felt Cora’s hands along the gashes in his back, carefully inspecting the wounds. He felt the blood rush to his cheeks with shame, as he chastised himself for even considering the idea that she would be any different. She was who she was, no matter the circumstance. It’s what he loved about her. She surprised him, even now.

“I’m alright, Inquisitor. The beast caught me off guard, and I ran out of Lyrium.” Solas explained “It won’t happen again in the future.”

“Its okay to rely on me in the future, Solas.” Cora pleaded. He could feel her hesitate behind him. “You still owe me an explanation when this is over, but I would never just abandon you. Can you please-”

“I shall keep that in mind, Vhen... Inquisitor.” Solas could bear no more and quickly got to his feet. Every step forward was more difficult than the last, but he endured. He must.

They walked in silence back to camp, and offered each other no more than a glance on the way back to Skyhold. After getting his wounds looked at by a healer, he made his way back to his part of the castle, hoping to disappear into some research.

Not long after another unsuccessful attempt at translating writings from an ancient Thaig, his door opened. Cora walked briskly through his study, towards the door leading to the barracks. To the Commander. She seemed... happy. Solas frowned. He had noticed that she frequented his office more recently than in the past, but he hadn’t considered why. Solas could feel the anger, like a pit in his stomach. He knew it was wrong, but couldn't stop himself before he spoke. “Cullen isn’t in his Quarters.”

Cora stopped in her tracks. “What?”

Solas cleared his throat, “I just assumed that's where you were headed since his is the only door in that direction. I thought I would save you the effort.”

A bemused smile spread across her face “Save me my effort for what, Solas?”

“I’m sure you have more important matters to attend to.”

Cora scoffed and walked back towards his study door. She muttered something he didn’t quite catch under her breath. From the inflection, he could tell it wasn’t positive. She took a moment before she spoke. “You lost the right to interfere with whom I speak to when you left me. You can’t expect me to wait until you decide I deserve to know why.”

“I didn’t expect you to wait, but I expected it not so be done so blatantly and without regard for-“

“You feelings?” Cora cut him off. “I was desperate to hear yours, and now that I’m not begging for it, it's an issue? Enlighten me, Solas. What would you have me do? Do you get off on me miserable and moping around Skyhold? Is that it? Cullen at least is honest with his emotions. I don’t have to wonder if he enjoys my presence, because he says so! I don’t have to plead for him to tell me the truth...”

Solas stood in stunned silence. Everything that he wanted to say and everything she wanted required more of the truth. The damned truth that she shouldn’t be responsible for. He had to get her to drop this. He took a deep breath.

“Cora, if I believed you wanted me to play the part of a cold hearted fiend so desperately, I would have made more of an effort. I expected that our time together meant more than what the Commander could provide quick comforts for. It seems I was mistaken. Now, unless you have any questions about Coreypheus, we should focus on the task at hand.”

Shocked at the amount of venom in his voice, he turned away from her. He was afraid of letting anything else slip, or worse, that his resolve would crumble if he saw her expression. He could feel the hurt and anger radiating from her like waves. He wondered if she would yell, or cry, or hit him. He wanted her to. It would be better than the silence. Instead, he heard her let out a long sigh.

“Everyone makes mistakes.” Cora said softly. “Don’t make this one again.”

She shut the door firmly behind her. Slowly, Solas slumped in his chair. From above he could hear Dorian whistle in surprise. He lamented at the lack of privacy the rotunda allowed. The whole of Skyhold would know about it within the hour, he was sure. He supposed it was his punishment for putting them both in this position. He would make everything right, when this was done. He just wasn’t sure how.

[uhh-wait-what]

Mik posting writing online? This is new. First public fic! Did someone say Bullavellan Pre-Trespasser Angst? Low-key a companion piece to this drawing.

Jaws of Hakkon spoilers.

History Has its Eyes on You  - AO3

The inquisitor sat, perched high on a branch overlooking the Varsdotten River, thumbing through an ancient journal with carefully gloved fingers. Sunlight filtered down in spots through the dense canopy, making it difficult for her to make out the already faded writing. She knew when the Iron Bull approached, but made no motion of acknowledgement.

“Dorian headed back to Skyhold. Said he had some packing to do but he’d wait to say goodbye before he heads back to Tevinter,” Bull said.

Cora nodded in thanks, a red curl pulling loose from her ponytail and bouncing at the edge of her vision. She’d cut it too short last time and it had been insufferable to deal with since.

“You alright, Kadan?”

Bull dropped down beside her with a clang of metal.

“I’m fine.”

“Mmhm. Fine. Sure. You’ve been brooding ever since we found Ameridan.”

The elf was silent for a long time, but the Iron Bull sat expectantly.

“There’s just a lot of history we uncovered,” Cora sighed when it became clear he would wait all night for an answer if she made him.

“You love history.”

It was a simple statement, but she could hear the question behind it.

“I do. But watching history repeat itself is not quite as… thrilling as I’d hoped it would be.”

“What, the Avaar? The Inquisition will take care of that. We got the god. And I gotta say, if you didn’t think killing a dragon-god was thrilling then-”

“No, not that.”

Bull arched a brow.

“Ameridan was a dalish elf. A mage. And history decided that wasn’t worth remembering.”

“And you’re worried that history will decide not to remember those things about you?” he guessed.

She nodded.

“Time and again, elves are written out of history. Conveniently forgotten. First the downfall of Arlathan, then the Canticle of Shartan, now this? Will they choose to ignore those parts of me as well?”

“I heard Varric’s writing a book about all this. Make sure he gets your pointed ears on paper,” he joked, affectionately flicking the tip of one of them. His attempt to lighten the mood brought a smile to Cora’s face, if only a small one. He draped a heavy arm over her shoulders and pulled her into his side. “As long as you don’t freeze yourself in time like Ameridan, you should be around long enough to make sure the historians get their stories straight.”

Cora swallowed a lump in her throat and carefully closed the journal, wrapping it in a cloth and tucking it in her pack. She looked down at her gloved mark. She could see the faintest glow of magic through the seams and she closed her fingers around it in a futile attempt to snuff it out.

“That’s just it,” she said slowly, taking her time as she uncurled her fist and began to pluck the glove off, finger by finger. Once she removed it completely and dropped the glove onto the branch beside her, she felt the Iron Bull’s breathing halt, even if his face gave nothing away.

The mark was spreading.

What was once a sliver now covered her entire palm with glowing green energy. The veins in her arm looked like they’d been injected with the fade itself, and it was slowly creeping up toward her shoulder like poison.

“When did this start?” he asked. His voice was hoarse. Cora went to curl her hand around the mark, but his warm fingers stopped her.

“On the way to the basin.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

Bull was silent, inspecting her hand as if looking for an off switch.

“It’s hurting you,” he said eventually. It wasn’t a question.

“How did you-”

“The rifts. I noticed you were hesitating. Drawing back. I hadn’t figured out why but I never thought-”

He stopped mid-sentence and Cora wondered if he’d thought better of his words or if he was having as much difficulty speaking as she was. Eventually, he let out a throaty noise of frustration and a long string of curse words in as many languages as he knew spilled from his mouth.

“Well said.”

“We’ve still got a shit-ton of mages back at Skyhold. They can come up with something. Maybe Dorian-”

“Bull.”

“-can think of something. The vints have some crazy-”

“Bull.”

“-shit don’t they? Fuck, maybe we could just cut it off. You can do magic one handed, right? We can-”

“Vhenan, stop. Katoh.”

At the sound of the watchword, Bull went silent. Cora cupped his large hand in both of hers and turned to better face him.

“Banal nadas. Nothing is inevitable, but I don’t want to think about this right now. I want to spend time. With you. With my friends. Every second, no matter how many more of them I get.”

The Iron Bull swore again and cupped her face in both of his hands as he dipped his head down to kiss her. She could feel the frustration in it. The fear. It was harsh. Passionate. Bruising. But she leaned into it because damned if she didn’t feel every ounce of that as well.

When he finally pulled back, he dropped his forehead against hers. Cora idly wondered at what point it should be considered a head butt. Bull’s unpatched eye was closed, but while he couldn’t seem to look at her, she couldn’t look away from him. Her gaze traced every scar, every stray freckle and mole, until she had committed them to memory.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.”

The words were barely a whisper and she was almost convinced he didn’t hear her until he pressed  his lips to hers once more. Softly this time. So deep and tender she felt like her whole body was aching. When he pulled back, he took a deep breath.

“I love you, too.”

[dawn-lotuss]

Dragon Age Worldstates |  1/2/3

Orvil Aeducan • Maeson Hawke • Cora Lavellan

[mik-arts]

some old sketches of cora I never got around to posting

[mik-arts]

got thrown headfirst back into my corabull feelings last week and actually did something about it for once

[mik-arts]

a little late to the party but I did that oc meme by iguanentapioca on twitter for Cora and had a lot of fun with it