Hamin'an Lavellan is a mystery to Solas. A riddle that he cannot help but wish to solve. He is disciplined and strong, trained in the ways of the ancient warriors, and yet he is eternally smirking and playful. Much like the one whom his tattoos dedicate him to.
"The vallaslin are reserved for the People," Hamin explains solemnly when Solas asks - Dalish traditions being one of the only things the horned man is ever solemn about - "but our Keeper emulates their designs for the rest of the clan."
And Solas has the benefit of seeing the thorny vines of Elgar'nan's vallaslin wrapping around Hamin's body, tattooed on his stone gray skin in vibrant gold. He's traced the lines as they run around his arms and chest, pressed his lips to Hamin's as he follows the lines up the back of his neck up to his horns.
He has watched Hamin strip off his tunic to chop firewood and quietly smirked because he knows just how far down the golden thorns go as he admires the Qunari's physique. He has slept in the Rotunda with large arms encircling him and surrendered to their warmth and patiently explained his painting process.
Hamin is a mystery because Solas cannot understand for the life of him how he managed to fall in love.
"What is it, Vhenan? You're staring again."
Solas smiles. He could get used to hearing the elvhen tongue slip from Hamin's lips.
So, in the last few weeks I made a new Inquisitor/baby to cosplay on TikTok, started a new DAI game/file for him, and now I’m writing about him because he took on a life of his own, I never learn, and this franchise clearly owns my soul. Hope you enjoy! <3
Hamin Lavellan (DA:I, prologue), for @dadrunkwriting & @aly-the-writer
They get it wrong. They always do, of course. Solas may not be Dalish, but even he must know from the bow and quiver that’s strapped to his back, and without an ounce of magical blood running through him that he wasn’t First to the Keeper for Clan Lavellan. Hamin doesn’t bother to correct them, though, and the strange elven wanderer seems content to follow his lead. They’ve already decided on a narrative too, these Shems. Pigeon-holed him into a story that features him saved and designated the messenger by a God he doesn’t even believe in.
Hamin doesn’t bother to say much where he can help it. Cassandra is hardly the first human to brandish threats or weapons at him, but unlike a good deal of his and his fellow hunter’s scrapes in the past, she seems quite capable of backing them up, could probably best him. He’s trained the same as any of their Clan’s hunters, knows his way around a dagger or two as well as his preferred bow, but Hamin has always seen and fought better at a distance.
So, he does as his Keeper had advised him before sending him off, and tries to remain, if not unseen, then, at least, unheard. He bites his tongue so often there’s a rumor that their “Herald of Andraste” may be mute. Hamin may not in chains anymore, but the abrupt change of heart in the Seeker and the rest of this Inquisition, its followers, and even the pilgrims is less a comfort and more a reminder of the mutability of the minds of Shems, particularly in large numbers. Those hearts and minds that smile and clap for him now could be changed again, turned once more against him, whenever it suits them.
Hamin mourns as he does many things since unexpectedly waking up in the dark and damp of Haven’s Chantry dungeon, silently and in private. Halani. For all that his parents named him ‘rest’ they were his. So much smarter than him, and ever so hard-working, but Halani never let being the clan’s First never come between making time for him. When Deshanna made the announcement she would be sending her First to observe and report back about the Shems’ meetings over the fate of Templars and Mages, Hamin volunteered. Sharp eyes, an even sharper shot, and more motivation than any to protect them. He would travel with them, keep them safe. But he’s failed. He’s failed Halani. He’s failed the Keeper. He’s failed them all.
Do you intend to go back, Cassandra asks. Can he? Could he bear to? Would it be safe? Would the Clan even take him in the wake of his failure to protect one of their most treasured, their most precious? How can they possibly forgive him when he can scarcely begin to imagine forgiving himself?
And yet, he misses them. Acutely. A pronounced ache in his chest at the thought of his fellow hunters, his friends, their Hahren, and the Keeper. Misses too the familiar sights, sounds, and smells of the lands they’ve roamed, so different from these across the sea. His clothes are sturdy and warm, Hamin spent a good portion of an afternoon complimenting and speaking to Harritt as such good craftsmanship had merited, but nicer still would be not to need them. For a climate warm enough to feel the earth beneath his bare feet again. He takes up roost at the top of the steps, a silent sentry, the night of the first full moon since waking to this nightmare. The sight of her had thrilled him once. She feels remote now like a shore made little more than a speck on the horizon by unfathomable distance. To say nothing for the great ugly scar that diminishes her beautiful shine and paints the snowy landscape in hues of green.
His heart and blood still race, feet restless to track, to stalk, and finally to run. But Haven already has hunters. Passing good, if the elf is feeling charitable. And Hamin can just imagine what the sight, word of a savage knife-ear hunting just beyond the walls would do for the whispers already flying about amongst ignorant soldiers and pilgrims. Sound though Varric’s advice probably is, there is nowhere for Hamin to run. Halani’s death and whatever strange twist of fate which burned this mark upon his hand have both unmoored and anchored him. Indifferent and distrustful as he may be, abandoning the Inquisition when he may be the only one with the means of closing these rifts isn’t really much of a choice. He will stay for the sake and future of his Clan, whether they still acknowledge and accept him or no. He will stay because it’s what Halani would have done, always the better of the pair of them. Hamin wouldn’t wish the pain nor any of the difficulties that are sure to accompany his mark on anyone else, though the world might yet, and if any of these people had known the true envoy of Clan Lavellan, if they had any inkling of just what they’d lost at the Conclave, they’d be right to.
“I have a friend...” Solas had mumbled. “Who was interested in joining us.”
“Oh really?” Hamin had grinned. “And, uh... is this friend attractive?”
“Invariably.” Solas replied. “You see... it is Desire who wishes to join us.”
So that was how Hamin found himself dreaming of a forest clearing, of lying on a blanket laid over a hill that had no business being that soft, as Solas and another man emerged from the trees. He was a little shorter than Solas, but far more well-built and stocky. His dark hair had a slight curl to it, and drifted over his pointed ears.
“He looks like Revas.” Hamin noticed.
Desire raised an eyebrow, chuckling. His voice was like music... a seductive, intoxicating beat. “Do I now? Your lover?”
Hamin nodded. “I wish you could meet him, Solas.”
Solas smirked. “Desire... would you?”
Desire grinned excitedly, his face shifting more exactly to Revas Lavellan’s. His voice became deeper, less musical, but no less seductive. “Hello there, Ham. This the man you were talking about?”
Hamin grinned as he got into the roleplay. “Yup. Meet Solas. The handsomest elf I’ve had the pleasure of knowing since you.”
“Flatterer.”
“I try.”
Solas smirked. “On your knees, Vhenan. Lethallin. I am in charge this night.”
Hamin grinned and obeyed, glancing over as Desire did the same, his blue eyes twinkling just as Revas’ did. This was going to be fun.
“Vhenan, why don’t you remind him just how skilled you are with your mouth? I find myself wishing to take you while you do so...”
“Fenhedis.” Hamin muttered, only to be dragged into a kiss by Desire as Solas chuckled knowingly...
Hamin awoke with a moan after all was done, Solas smirking up at him. Both covered in a light sheen of sweat. “We... we have got to do that again.”
“As you wish, Vhenan. I’m sure Desire will be more than pleased to hear it.”
Mysen of Denerim - my indulgent self-insert. Revenant like Cole was. Romances Alistair.
Heskan Aeducan - Hero of Ferelden. Killed Trian. Does Dark Ritual. Romances Blackwall in Inquisition. (face claim Can Yaman)
Jeremiah Hawke - Champion of Kirkwall. Sides with mages. Marries Ser Keran. Lost in the Fade. (face claim Beau Mirchoff)
Halani Lavellan - Inquisitor. Asexual. Sides with mages, puts Briala in power over Gaspard, allies with Wardens. (face claim Keira Knightley)
Origins
Scribe Mysen of Denerim learns of Loghain's plot and attempts to go warn King Cailan. He is murdered by Loghain, but a Spirit of Hope present entered the world from the Fade and became Mysen the same way Cole did. The new Mysen has gaps in his memory and a strange magic power, but he is eager to help. He ends up at Flemeth's hut (where Mythal's spirit resonates with him) and Flemeth decides to send him with Alistair and new Warden Heskan Aeducan, double-crossed fratricidal charmer. Mysen falls in love with Alistair, and proves his own worth through his persuasive talents and his people-person status, as well as his ability in tactical maneuvers, although he is poor in combat. Eventually, at the Landsmeet, the party learns Mysen is a revenant as Loghain recalls murdering the young man. Alistair proposes before the Landsmeet, abdicating his right to the throne to Anora. Heskan out of necessity performs the Dark Ritual with Morrigan. Alistair brings Mysen to Vigil's Keep, where he hopes his love will be safe.
Dragon Age 2
Jeremiah Hawke, a mage, escapes with his mother and brother from Lothering, his sister perishing in the flight from the attack. Rather immature and very fun-loving, Jeremiah tries to bury his sadness over his sister in new experiences, much to the chagrin of Carver, who sees this as his brother never taking anything seriously. Jeremiah rescues a Templar-Recruit named Keran from a crazed blood mage, and falls in love. The two are married in a quick ceremony after a drunken night at the Hanged Man. Jeremiah sends Carver to join the Templars in order to get another spy in there besides Keran, and eventually he gets many of the Templars to side with the mages in the final battle, taking down Meredith. Jeremiah lets Anders go, then flees Kirkwall with his husband.
Inquisition
Halani Lavellan becomes Inquisitor, though she allows Tash to join, recognizing him as a powerful Dreamer. Mysen and Alistair also join the Inquisition. Briala becomes the power behind a neutered Gaspard, and a married Cullen and Josephine adopt Tash. Solas is romanced by the Vashoth Hamin Lavellan, and poor Jeremiah Hawke is left in the Fade.
A Qunari foundling rescued by Clan Lavellan and raised Dalish, he dedicates himself to the god Elgar’nan and learns to fight in the Dalish style, using two swords to great effect with his natural strength and learned grace. His name, Hamin’an, means “the place of rest,” and he hopes to be a protector others can shelter under.
Helps save Clan Lavellan. Has his own version of vallaslin - the thorned vines of Elgar’nan run all across his body, curling around his arms, across his back and chest, wrapping around his chest, and even curling up his neck to swipe around his horns, avoiding his face. He is pansexual.
Prompt 14 of @finelyfrenzied‘s Fictober list!
Pairing: Hamin/Solas
Hamin never knew exactly what brought it on. That first kiss Solas bestowed on him.
He had been shirtless, out in the courtyards of Skyhold, chopping wood. His golden tattoos from Clan Lavellan glimmering in the sun. The ironbark bands around his horns shining, making them appear like wood branches jutting from his head.
Like some sort of sylvan creature, Solas had said. Like a spirit in action. Hamin had chosen to take it as a complement.
Solas had strode up to him, his lips upturned in a gentle smirk, looking up at the tall Qunari, who had stopped chopping long enough to look back.
“Something I can help you with, lethallin?” Hamin had asked.
“I believe there is, Hamin’an.” Solas had responded. Hamin knew now that he had been completely aware of how much Hamin loved hearing the elf say his full name. “Do you remember what you dreamed last night?”
Hamin had gulped. Because the night before, he had dreamed of himself kissing Solas deeply, gently pulling away their clothes and... erm....
“Good, you do.” Solas’ smirk had grown much wider. “It was... not completely a dream.”
Hamin had blinked several times. “Oh, Creators... you were there. Really there. I’m-”
“I was a willing participant, though I feel you did not know it was truly me. For that, I apologize.”
“No, you don’t have to - wait, you were willing?” Hamin had started to grin.
Solas chuckled. “Come down here.”
Hamin remembered he had been smiling as Solas kissed him.
Would he have refused, if he had known? If he knew what Solas truly was?
Hamin cannot find his way away from Solas, even in dreams
“I cannot allow it, Vhenan.” Solas’ voice whispered. “I will not lose you.”
Hamin knew the dream well. It had been his prison for the last few months. He had tried to force himself to hate Fen’Harel, to leave thoughts of him behind, but he could not.
In the dream, he was running through the woods, pursued by a giant wolf, red eyes following him through the darkness.
And though he sometimes stood and fought, sometimes fled, he could never get away. The wolf would pounce on him, and his swords and strength were useless. He’d be pinned down, and dragged away.
But this time was different. The wolf pounced, and suddenly he was in bed with Solas, smiling as the elf held him close.
“Please... Solas... we can’t...I can’t let you succeed.”
“Vhenan... I understand. But I cannot let you leave. We are bound, you and I. Our souls are entwined.”
Hamin groaned as Solas kissed his neck. “But, I...”
“Hush now. Let the Dread Wolf take you...”
Hamin whimpered. But this was... a dream. It couldn’t hurt to give in... He kissed Solas deeply, and then... he awoke. In a tent, that was certainly no where he recognized.
“Solas?”
Solas smiled down at him, kneeling and kissing his forehead, between his horns. “I shall keep you safe, Vhenan. When the time comes, you will see...”
