#faewall

[sasshole-for-rent]

Bringing this back around because I love this art by @galadrieljones

And I got Faewall brain worms again.

[sasshole-for-rent]

DADWC Prompt List

Writing only the following pairings from now on:

Scout Faeven Lavellan x Blackwall

Cassandra x Cullen

Faeven (any au) × [insert mutual's oc]

Inquisitor Thorin Lavellan x Dorian Pavus

Ambassador Mel Lavellan x Solas

Prompts I am asking for are:

List #1

Drabble List

LI Scenarios

Atmosphere Prompts

Any from any of the eerie prompt lists!

Currently working on The Bear and the Raven Fair and Faded Glory. Thank you! 💕

[sasshole-for-rent]

DWC prompt: (Lost souls) Wispy clouds over a full moon!

Established Relationship || Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Summary: Faeven and Blackwall get separated from the rest of their party in the Hissing Wastes.

For @dadrunkwriting

It was autumn everywhere else in Thedas besides in the desert. These lonely sands were frigid, especially so tonight. It was a harsher cold than the bittersweet chill of the forests back home. The cold here had a unsettling intent. A nail of fear stabbed through her heart and the wound bled upwards in waves of anxiety.

Blackwall had busied himself with starting a fire out of the tumbleweeds and lonesome branches they managed to scrounge up. He had been silent since the sand storm. It was one of those freezing nights that knocked on the walls Faeven had kept up during the duration of this relationship. The cold had her kept in the limbo of indecision, where she wasn't sure if she should put on more layers or if she should just let the cold pierce through her armor and skin, so maybe just maybe, it would shock her senses enough to make her truly feel real. She had tried to light up, but it was too cold that whatever high that managed to surface was immediately shredded to ribbons.

As if the universe could hear her thoughts, a particularly strong wind picked up and all she could see and feel was sand and ice. The wind died as quickly as it had sprung to life, and it left her coughing and shivering. Faeven was used to coughing, relying on smoke for most things really wasn't good for her lungs. This was a different cough. It felt deeper, full of little sharp edges.

"Faeven, are you alright?" Before she had a grip on her surroundings, familiar hands had a grip on her shoulders. Those hands gently steering her. "Please don't stray from camp." She hadn't realized her feet had taken her to the top of the dune he was walking her back. "Maker balls, don't make me have to forget the desert again, especially if it took you from me..." There was a panic in his voice, however small, it was still there.

"I suppose I was looking for the others. I just don't understand how we were separated from them so fast. Do you think they are safe?" Faeven could hear the panic in her own voice as Blackwall sat her down by the fire. It had a sweet scent to it, she guessed from the saplike coating of the branches. It crackled, snapped, and popped as it burned. In this moment, Faeven was glad to be lost, even with the fear, a kernel of peace and gratitude brightened inside her chest.

"I don't think we are safe." Blackwall said as he drapped the lambswool blanket they bought back in Redcliffe over her shoulders. He pressed his body against hers, warmth filled her slowly, completely. Faeven almost laughed at how at odds with reality that statement was, because she felt so safe here with him. She took his hand under the warmth of the blanket, brought it to her lips to grace it with a kiss. With a smile, Faeven rubbed his hand with her cold hands until she was confident she had made a little body fire in their palms. "We are safe..." She said to him, the desert, and the universe.

Blackwall looked at her in disbelief, and Faeven could practically see all of the practicality that invalidated their safety running through his mind, but she didn't want to acknowledge it. She knew his mind was in survival mode, and that mode wasn't kind. The what-ifs hound you until you give the merit, when sometimes, most times, those what-ifs didn't matter. So with a squeeze of her hand, Faeven added. "...because of you."

The disbelief eased up in his eyes, but it lingered. Faeven focused instead on his crooked nose. Its lovely wonky shape. How the cold had turned it red at the tip, and eventhough the cold left that nose runny too, and they both had to sniff to keep the drip at bay. She still had the desire to kiss it, because she loved that nose. Faeven loved the man who owned it even more. Despite his anxieties and tendency to look at the more dark side of things, she loved him. So deep that she was scared of it, because they mirrored what she saw in herself. Those things she still had trouble loving within herself were so easy to love when it came to him.

Faeven let out a breath she wasn't aware that she was holding. Blackwall apparently had to been holding his breath too, and he looked at her. "What are you looking at?" As if her gazing at him like a lovesick girl wasn't so fucking obvious.

"You." That was a simple answer. He seemed satisfied with that answer and it was a lovesick boy who smiled at her. Faeven had more to say however. "I love your crooked nose, because it tells a story of how you have always been a fighter. How you have survived whatever sort of punch life has thrown at you."

"The scar above your brow tells me a similar story about you. I don't think you truly know how strong you are but I hope I can help show you the strength I see in you."

"I don't usually feel strong..." Faeven trailed off, looking up towards the moon that decided to peek through the sad wisps that called themselves 'clouds' who lived in the desert sky. "But with you here, I feel that we will survive this particular punch together and it will be okay."

Blackwall nodded. Their souls understood each other. With the moon as a witness, he kissed her forehead. "There are times when I don't feel strong either, but you are showing me that it is okay to be vulnerable." He was quiet for a moment, still looking at her. "I am very grateful I met you."

It was in that moment that they were no longer two lost souls stranded in a desert, but two souls who realized they have found each other after all this time.

[sasshole-for-rent]

Some somft faewall sketches for your night...

[sasshole-for-rent]

Faeven: How much longer until we make camp somewhere? My back is aching something fierce.

Blackwall: Soon. It's near dusk. When we get there, I'll give you a rub.

Faeven: Oh! Can't wait! Now if you're gonna give me a good rubbing, I'm sore in other places too.

Blackwall: [laughs] My bad. Sorry.

Varric: Look, I'm happy that you two found each other, but I'd prefer if you could hold off on going at it when I'm not three feet from you?

Iron Bull: Speaking of feet, Blackwall, could you give me a footrub?

Blackwall: [sighs] No.

[sasshole-for-rent]

Scout Faeven Lavellan recruits a lonely bastard who goes by the name Warden Blackwall

[sasshole-for-rent]

Some shitty quality pictures of Faewall.

[sasshole-for-rent]

The Bear and the Raven Fair

I'm so excited to finally be serious about writing this fic I've been yelling about to @dismalzelenka so here is the first chapter!

Summary: Life always had a penchant for turning sideways for Faeven. Her cousin had gotten into some Thedas wide horseshit at the conclave. Apparently there was demons everywhere and the sky had an asscrack. The Lavellans were a big messed up family. So she signed on to help. All of her family also got the memo. The largest family reunion to save Thedas. Sure. That wouldn't be a problem at all. Thanks, cousin.

Blackwall was trying his best to thwart whatever the hell was going on with the world. Sure, he was a man on the run from himself, but at least he was trying. Didn't expect this thing called the Inquisition swooping in and recuiting him, nor did he expect the cheeky and unprofessional agent they sent to do that. He didn't expect to fall in love with her either. Boy, he sure had a way of messing up things.

Chapter 1: First Names, First Impressions

“What’s your name?” The agent asked. She was an elf, dalish from the tattoos on her face, the one who had just recruited him to this fledgling organization called the Inquisition. Though they hadn't returned to the Inquisition's base of operations yet. The elf made an excuse to stay. It wasn't a short jaunt from the hinterlands to back to where she came from, and she didn't want to tire the horses or her cohorts. Well, he was one of those cohorts now. She wouldn't say directly that she was tired. He didn't blame her, but she seemed more bone tired than any woman he had ever seen. They would leave for Haven when she was sure the horses were rested and their supplies were secured from the crossroads. Though now, she was sitting on a woodpile against the house that he had been living in for the past few months. The house, not the woodpile.

“Blackwall?” He was confused. “You called me by my name when you found me.”

“No. Not that name, the other one." He fought the panic in him when she said the other one. He was sure he buried all of the other him. This woman couldn't know, could she? She simply crossed her legs, and watched him from her perch. 

Read the first chapter of The Bear and the Raven Fair over on AO3! Look out for future updates!

Hopefully I will have the second chapter done shortly, sorry the first chapter is so short but I've got big plans for this! Then again, Faeven might derail those... because you know, she's her.