#miriel lavellan

[scurvgirl]

Miriel Lavellan showing up to stop Solas with a revenge body - "You could be doing this and instead you're...doing THIS?"

[fadedlavellan]

The sickly but stubborn huntress of Clan Lavellan, thrust into a future she did not want nor ask for. Her future a whirlwind of responsibility and danger the likes of which she would not dare imagine. From friendship, to romance, to betrayal, soon kind-hearted mischief would give way to something far more bitter; a cruelty that nature demands. Is the Inquisitor truly the hero Thedas needed? Or will she join hands with the Dread Wolf and bring the world to its knees?

Template courtesy of @mt07131 !!

[lillotte17]

A smol Miriel for @scurvgirl 🥰

[sometimesraven]

@febuwhump Day 10: Difficulty Breathing

Fandom: Dragon Age Whumpee: Miriel Lavellan

Summary: Miriel hates stairs. Stairs don't particularly like her, either. Solas thinks life would be a lot easier for Miriel if she just let the Inquisition install a stairlift.

AO3 Link

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She was stuck. Her skin felt clammy and her forehead was damp with sweat, like the mark on her arm and the pounding in her chest were working in tandem to make her as uncomfortable as possible. The steps to her quarters in Skyhold were growing to become more trouble than they were worth and she found herself regretting once more her decision not to disclose her weakness to the Inner Circle sooner.

Resting as she often did on the floor in front of the fire, she took a deep, shuddering breath — then quickly realised it was the deepest breath she’d taken since reaching her quarters. Her lungs were burning, every breath not quite enough to shake the fading feeling. She couldn’t even bring herself to remove her boots or gloves, merely leaning and panting while the gentle crackle of fire that always seemed to be burning added the the sweaty, heavy feeling.

There were things that could be done. Since her fainting spell a few weeks before, just about every solution was offered: contraptions and aides and magical solutions... But the thought of so much trouble put towards what should have been manageable was disgusting to her.

She was a huntress of Clan Lavellan; a woman of the Dalish. If even one Elf fell short of their duty there would be none to pick up the slack -- everything worked Just So, and the Inquisition was no different. Everyone had a role to play, and Miriel’s role was to lead; to inspire. How would she do that if word spread that she could scarcely climb a flight of stairs?

“Vhenan.” Miriel almost slipped off of the cushion she was leaning on, her heart startled back into overdrive just as it had begun to slow.

“Fenedhis, Solas!” She snapped, glaring up at him through a curtain of red hair that fell about her face, “Announce yourself for once.”

“If I am to continue discovering you this way,” he continued, barely pausing to smirk at her words as he lowered to wrap a surprisingly strong arm around her waist and pull her to her feet, leaning heavily against him, “Shall I begin carrying you to your quarters every night?”

“I would rather lose my legs entirely than be carried like a child whenever I require some privacy, Solas,” she hissed, trying and failing to hide the way she breathed a sigh of relief as he rested her to bed and began removing her heavy formal garments.

“Then perhaps it is time to accept the offer of your people. Harrit, Dagna and Gatsi had drafted plans for a stair-glider, had they not?”

This again. Miriel sighed heavily, shaking her head in a movement barely perceptible. Now she was laying down properly it was like the last of her strength had left her. Gods, it had been a long day. “The work and resources--”

“Would go where they are deserved, Lavellan.” Solas’ hands were nimble and cautious in unlacing her gloves, carefully placing them on the table beside her. “The standards of your people need not apply to the wider world. Admitting the need for aid is a greater strength than the Dalish understand.”

Miriel merely granted him a sharp, devestating glare. She did not have the strength to fight his criticism of her culture today.

“It is merely a caution, vhenan. Your pride could easily become your downfall.”

She didn’t grace that with an answer either, and Solas breathed the lightest of sighs as he so often did, resting a chaste kiss on her clammy forehead. “Consider it, my love. For my sake if not yours.”

"How would it possibly help you?"

"I would be wounded by your angry gaze a little less, I think~"

[shadoedseptmbr]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

In honor of new Dragon Age stuff, new Dread Wolf musings: an old story about...complications. 

[scurvgirl]

My canon Inquisitor Lavellan, Miriel, and Miriam from Absolution commiserating over their mage loves betraying them.

[scurvgirl]

Going through old screenshots and oops, made myself sad. Solavellan Hell, here forever. 

Ugh his eyebrows and his face! The pain! T__T

[scurvgirl]

I just wanted to write Solavellan kisses. I’m tipsy from margaritas so let’s goooo

--

In the days following Solas’s confession on the balcony, Skyhold became a bustling stop for merchants and nobles alike. It kept Miriel frustratingly busy and away from the one man she wanted to be around. She wanted, no needed to talk to him. And kiss him. Shove him against a wall and feel his chest as their mouths locked and his hands found her butt again.

The nobles were making this very frustrating indeed.

She caught glimpses of Solas in passing. She’d walk by the rotunda in a group of nobles, glance in to see his back as he pondered a new addition to the mural. Or she’d see him reading a book in the garden as she spoke to a merchant about a new trade agreement. He’d glance up and give her a smile so small it was near imperceptible by anyone except her. 

Ar lath ma, vhenan. His words fluttered through her mind constantly. It filled her heart and head with incredible possibility and happiness. 

After two weeks of the noble and merchant rigmarole, Miriel sat in her room feeling exhausted but restless. Wind and rain battered the windows and lightning periodically streaked across the sky following claps of thunder. The sun had long set, the servants were long to bed, and still Miriel was awake. She starred out the window until the restlessness got the better of her. She headed down to the main hall, not even realizing she was heading towards the rotunda until she was there. A single candle flickered on Solas’s desk. Large shadows stretched up the walls, warping the mural into something that felt more sinister than usual. Solas wasn’t there, though. 

Miriel’s brow furrowed. Where could he be? She exited the rotunda to the bridge that led to Cullen’s office and leaned over the edge - there! He was walking away from Herald’s Rest, the rain soaking him to the bone. 

“Solas!” She called but didn’t wait for his response or for the rational option which was to wait for him. Nope, she ran back to the rotunda and then exited the grand hall down to the courtyard. The rain sank into her but she didn’t care. It was night and the only light came from the shielded oil lamps Josie had installed only a month ago. Her eyes caught the light and she found herself running to Solas.

In a flash, she was in his arms. His hands cradled her face and he smiled down at her, “Vhenan.” His mouth was on hers in the following moment, moving slowly but purposefully. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and his hands dropped from her face to her butt, gripping her tight against him. His tongue ran along her lips and she returned the favor. The kiss deepened and it was magic. Pure magic to feel him like this. She said everything she hadn’t been able to in the last few weeks with that kiss. She returned his love and needed him to know.

The kiss went on for a long time. They paid no mind to the rain, or to the lightning flashing around them or the thunder rumbling. All that mattered was the kiss. She sucked on his tongue, ran her hands down his chest, felt his thigh slide between her own. 

He pulled away briefly only to rest his forehead against hers.

“I did not know you enjoyed thunderstorms so much.”

She blinked, “What?” 

He chuckled before angling his head to kiss her neck, “Vhenan, where are we?”

“Skyhold?”

“Yes...and no.”

She blinked and suddenly she was no longer in Solas’s arms or in the middle of a thunderstorm, but rather in her bed. The morning sun was beginning to crest over the mountains and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Miriel’s hand drifted up to her lips which should have been swollen from kissing. A full day of handling nobles awaited her but...so did a night where she could dream and find Solas again. 

She smiled. Even though her responsibilities often kept her from him, they would always have their dreams and fade tongue.