ill put this out there as someone who has been part of the dragon age fandom for way too long and has been on tumblr since dai came out.
as a massive Solavellan fan and romancer, Im taking this win and im being petty about it.
If you had been around here for a while, especially when dai/tresspasser were still newish, you would know that Solavellan was dragged to filth. People who romanced Solas were laughed at and told that they were stupid for romancing the egg when people like Cullen, Blackwall, Dorian, etc.. existed. Solavellan was treated like a joke and shit on.
And about Solas being gender/race locked?
Of course Solas would only Romance an elf. What respect does he have for the other races after he found out humans nearly wiped his people out, dwarves are doing their own thing, and Qunari are no better than the time of the Evanuris.
The gender locking? Yeah, its shit, but we can say the exact same about Cullen (Only human/elf female so fuck dwarves i guess), Blackwall (only females), Cassandra (only males which is a fucking crime), Sera (only females)
Your argument about gender locking is invalid when you dont argue the same for the rest, youre just bitter.
So you know what? Im happy that, after all of that, we get this validation. Im happy we finally get our closure. All of you had your romances get closure, now it's our turn.
Please, the copium stand is over there
During the two years after Corypheus' defeat, Lavellan had to leave for months on end to seek her allies to keep the Inquisition afloat. Amidst the diplomatic endeavors, a letter from Cullen finds its way to her.
author’s note: I'm writing this because I absolutely love Dragon Age. It's one of my favorite game franchises and I adore Cullen. Tumblr needs more Cullen. This is probably my favourite one shot I wrote ever.
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The days are getting frustrating.
She has been working day in and day out to keep peace between her allies to bring them to compromises over the Inquisition. She was after all, in title still, the Inquisitor. Her unwavering commitment led her to bend rules and relinquish much, driven by an unshakeable determination. A lingering sense of unease gnawed at her, as if some malevolent force lurked in the shadows, ready to exploit any moment of vulnerability.
The Avvar tribes from Frostback Basin were the least helpful and indulgent in her needs. She needed their written support in the continuation of the Inquisition and be part of the protectors of the realm and with such a generous and honorable offer she was humbled.
Humbled by bitter words and disapprovals beyond measures. After two days of diplomatic quarrels and revisiting the pros and cons of their alliances they still hadn't made up their mind.
She sat at a desk made of bones and dark wood with her head in her hands. She had to come to the realization that soon it would be the end. No one believed the Inquisition useful any longer, no one believed her to be of use no more. No matter how hard she'd work to keep the fires of hope burning, it was now a mere flicker as she reminisce the past.
She missed the old days, the action, the adventure with her friends. She missed Bull and his teasing; her reading times with Cassandra when the world wasn't burning; her chess games with Dorian, her endless training with Blackwall; her drinking friend, Sera and Josephine and her stupid dancing lessons that she'd grown to love. Amidst the nostalgia, a pang of longing hit her for the one she left behind months ago to pursue her quest: her beloved, Cullen.
Closing her eyes, she let the scenes unfold in her mind's eye—the tentative glances exchanged in Haven, the warmth of their shared laughter amidst the chaos of the Inquisition's formation, and the quiet moments stolen in the tranquility of Skyhold. But one memory she'd always cherish was the day he'd invited her for a game of chess, a game Dorian has taught her and he was a very severe teacher.
The flickering candlelight bathed the room in a warm, golden glow as Lavellan and Cullen sat across from each other, an ornate chessboard laid out between them. The air hummed with anticipation, the only sound the subtle clink of chess pieces being moved.
Lavellan's fingers danced gracefully over the carved ivory pieces, her eyes alight with a strategic fervor that belied her calm demeanor. "Your move, Commander," she teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
Cullen raised an eyebrow, feigning seriousness. "I must admit, Inquisitor, I wasn't expecting such a challenge."
She grinned, capturing a pawn with a swift move. "Well, Commander, it seems elves aren't just skilled with a bow. We have a few tricks up our sleeves when it comes to chess as well."
Cullen chuckled, a warmth spreading across his face. "I'll remember to never underestimate you."
The game unfolded with a balletic precision, each move a careful dance of intellect and banter. Cullen, initially taken aback by the unexpected prowess of his opponent, watched in awe as Lavellan executed her strategies flawlessly.
As the tension mounted, Lavellan leaned back, studying the board with a playful twinkle in her eyes. "Your move, Commander. Don't tell me you're surrendering already."
Cullen's gaze met hers, a mock-serious expression on his face. "Never, Inquisitor. I just enjoy keeping you on your toes."
With a triumphant smile, Lavellan declared checkmate. Cullen's surprise was evident, his eyes widening in genuine admiration. "Well played," he conceded, a hint of amusement in his voice.
Lavellan leaned in, a sly grin playing on her lips. "A game well fought, Commander. Perhaps you'll catch me off guard next time."
Cullen leaned back, a subtle twinkle in his eye as he crossed his arms. "One can only hope, Inquisitor. Surprises can be quite... captivating, after all."
The victory wasn't just in the game but in the shared laughter that followed, a playful banter that hinted at the deeper connection blossoming between them. She couldn't help but smile at the memory of that victorious chess match—the strategic moves, the playful banter, and the spark of flirtation that hinted at the beginning of something more profound between them.
They've been through the hells and back and their love was stronger than it ever was, but this didn't mean she didn't miss him any less. He was on her mind every night and every morning, wishing he'd be there next to her. He would comfort her and make her laugh to ease the frustration that plagued her.
"What would you do, Cullen?" She'd muttered under her breath while pinching the bridge of her nose.
A knock on the door of her cabin echoed and she rushed to opened the door hoping to receive positive news of the clan chiefs, but was met with a messenger from Skyhold.
"Inquisitor, a letter for you." The man offered her the folded parchment with the sigil of Kirkwall molded in the red wax that held the paper from revealing the words written inside. She thanked the man and returned to her desk with her eyes glued on the wax seal. The Inquisitor's heart raced as she carefully unfolded the parchment, a mix of anticipation and longing swirling within her chest.
"My Dearest Vhenan,
I find myself surrounded by the quiet shadows of Skyhold, the empty halls echoing with the absence of your laughter. In these moments, I am acutely aware of the words I struggle to say, the gestures I fumble, and the emotions that elude my grasp. So, in the silence that separates us, I turn to this parchment, attempting to weave the sentiments I cannot articulate in person.
The future of the Inquisition has scattered us like leaves in the wind, and each step away from you feels like a stumble in the dark. It is in these quiet spaces, where your presence is most keenly missed, that I realize the depth of what we shared. You, my love, are the melody in the chaos, the anchor in the storm, and the warmth in the cold solitude.
I am not gifted with eloquence when it comes to matters of the heart, and my attempts at grand gestures often fall short. Yet, in the silent chambers of my thoughts, you are ever present, a constant hum in the background of my consciousness. Your courage, your kindness, and the way your eyes light up with passion have become the compass guiding my way.
As we find ourselves on separate paths, know that you are the sun on my horizon, the spark that refuses to be extinguished. I miss you more than words can convey, and with each passing day, the ache of your absence grows. Every quiet moment serves as a reminder of your touch, and every fleeting memory stirs a longing within me.
In these lines, I attempt to bridge the distance that stretches between us, to convey what my stumbling words fail to express. Until the day our paths cross again, carry with you the truth that you are missed, loved, and cherished beyond measure. The ink on this parchment may be a poor substitute for the warmth of my embrace, but it carries the essence of a heart that beats for you.
Yours, always and with all that I am,
Cullen"
With each word, she felt the weight of Cullen's emotions, the sincerity of his struggles to express what lay in the depths of his heart. A tender smile curved her lips as the ink on the page painted a vivid picture of his love.
Her fingers traced the lines of the letter, as if seeking a tangible connection to the man who had become her anchor in the chaos of Thedas. The sincerity of his words resonated within her, echoing the sentiments she had sensed but had not dared to voice aloud.
As she reached the end of the letter, a gentle warmth enveloped her, like a soft embrace that bridged the physical distance between them. Tears welled in her eyes, not from sorrow, but from the overwhelming realization that she was deeply, wholly loved. In that solitary moment, she felt an unspoken bond, a connection that transcended the miles that now lay between them.
With a soft sigh, she whispered, "I'll be with you soon, vhenan," as if the wind could carry her words across the continent.
Dorian: Interesting story. I was speaking with your Ambassador not long ago. “Dearest Josephine,” I said, “How remarkably distracted and flush you seem. Whatever could be the reason?” And she dropped. Her. Pen. Bravo, Inquisitor.
