hi hello welcome to ThWee!
For any character(s) of your choice, please consider the following lyrics:
And the first shall be first
And the last shall be last
Cast your eyes to heaven
You get a knife in the back
Nobody's righteous
Nobody's proud
Nobody's innocent
Now that the chips are down
(Hadestown)
I don't know if I quite got the theme but I wrote this listening to the song. I'm actually going to get to see Hadestown in the fall so its nice to have a song from it stuck in my head. Thanks for the prompt!
WC: 597 @thedasweekend, DAI, Ada Lavellan (sister to my Lavellan), Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel Lavellan, unnamed Inquisition agent
The Conclave exploded. That’s what the humans are saying. And out of the ashes, the so-called Herald of Andraste has emerged. Salem. The same humans who drove them and her out of Hasmal now venerate them. Worship them. Andraste had forsaken Salem and Ada Blum when it had left them, bloody broken children, to die. So they fashioned themselves into Clan Lavellan. And now those shem wanted Salem as their puppet!
“My sibling is there,” Ada begs. “They would not choose to stay there. Let me go, infiltrate wherever they are holding Salem, let me free them.”
“I know, Da’len,” Keeper Deshanna says, voice full of sorrow. “Salem knew that there was a great risk in attending the Conclave, in scouting for our clan. They knew this every time they scouted ahead of us. But I cannot risk more of our clan, I cannot risk our First. We will just have to hope that they respond to our letter, that they are safe and remain safe.”
“And you trust the shemlen to honor a letter written by the Dalish?” Ada hisses. Guilt chokes her, questioning her Keeper, but Salem would do more on her behalf. She owes it to them to push Keeper Deshanna just a little harder.
***
Ada rereads the letter sent by the Inquisition. May your Clan continue to bloom in abundance. That has to be purposeful. Somehow, Salem chose this, so they are sending a message from one Blum to another. Ada enchants one of the mud lotus blossoms before they send them back with the Inquisition messenger. Just to preserve that bloom.
Keeper Deshanna has a fond smile as she and Ada watch the messenger head out.
“How many bandits today?” She says softly. Somehow, she overlooked the danger that they were in, so caught up in the news of her sibling.
“A manageable amount,” Keeper Deshanna replies. “At least now we know we have an ally in the Inquisition, should we need to call upon them.”
***
As illness spreads amongst the humans, and fear spreads amongst the elves of Clan Lavellan and the Wycome alienage, Ada watches as Keeper Deshanna reaches out once again to the Inquisition for help, and waits with baited breath for a response.
Several lightly armored agents bring a spark of hope, the logo of the Inquisition emblazoned on their chestplates.
“Greetings,” Keeper Deshanna says. Ada stands by her side.
“Andaran atishan,” The agent leading the group says in an unpracticed tongue. The effort brings Ada comfort. “We have received advice against direct military action. We can smuggle you into the city, if your hunters are able and willing.”
“We can meet up with the militia in the alienage,” Ada reminds Keeper Deshanna. While some city elves have fled the alienage entirely, others have been going back and forth, bringing information. One key piece of information is the burgeoning forces arming and training themselves.
“Good point, Da’len,” Keeper Deshanna says, eyes sparkling. “As my first, I would like you to lead them.”
Ada nods, determined.
***
It's been a while since Ada has lived in a house. It has been even longer since Ada has thought of living with someone special. A city elf she met during the strike against Duke Antoine. It's all so strange, with Keeper Deshanna holding a seat of power in Wycome, with the shemlen not only trusting but respecting both Clan Lavellan and their elves. It seems tenuous right now, and Ada cannot quite quash the instinct to run, but Ada allows herself to feel hope. Hope for the future, both hers and Salem’s.
How about Salem and the phrase 'a little bird told me'?
Hi! I made this as a fairly direct sequel to this one I did a couple weeks ago. I thought that the prompt would most suit Leliana or Sera, then I figured I wanted to follow up on the last thing I wrote, so I might as well go Sera. Sera goes too far trying to push Salem's buttons. I'll want to write something else to complete this little triptych. Thanks for the Prompt :)))
WC: 513 @thedasweekend DAI, Salem Lavellan, Sera
Salem likes the bar at Skyhold. To an extent. Bull and his chargers spend time there, and they all have interesting lives and unique opinions. But, when the noise gets to them, and they feel more distrustful of the shem they have been forced to surround themself with, they will take solace on the second or third floor. Cole is someone that Salem often holds at an arm’s length. While they can understand his perspective, and they value his position between the Beyond and this world, he cannot help but try to fix. And Salem cannot afford to be fixed while they hold the power and responsibility of Inquisitor. And then there’s Sera.
She taunts, she teases, and she shows none of the reverence that Salem has come to expect from the rest of the Inquisition. They almost love her for it, if they didn’t know the archer’s ire didn’t come from the fact that they are Dalish. They respect Sera’s work with the Red Jenny’s, the way she attacks those in power with humor, tearing down nobles from their pedestals and bringing them down a few notches. But the fact that she considers the Dalish on the same level as a human noble with land and titles? It makes them want to scream and throw things. Which they can never do, naturally.
Sitting by the stairs, Salem considers this. Sera had trashed their room while they were out in Emprise DuLion. She wrote her name on their desk and everything. It hadn’t taken much to clean up, so Salem would not mention it. At this point, Salem is not sure if not mentioning it feeds the flame more than mentioning it. Though they do have their own room, they know it is not truly theirs. Privacy is a luxury they gave up a long time ago.
A pair of hands on their shoulders startle them out of their thoughts. A sing-song voice whispers breathily in their ear.
“A little birdy told me you aren’t Dalish,” Sera giggles. “Not really.”
“Of course I’m Dalish,” Salem shoots back, and Sera giggles louder at the spark of anger in their voice. “What are you talking about?”
“You were born in Hasmal, of course!” Sera sits down next to them, draping herself over them. “Everyone knows how stuck up the Dalish are! You can’t be Dalish unless you were born there!”
“Yes, I was born in Hasmal. I’m a City Elf. My parents and grandparents were City Elves,” Salem says, looking over to catch confusion written across Sera’s face. “But I am still Dalish. My Clan knows me as Dalish. You do not get to tell me who I am.”
“Oh,” Sera says sheepishly. Salem untangles themself from Sera, standing up.
“If that’s all you wanted…” Salem narrows their eyes at Sera. Sera looks away. With a small huff, Salem turns down the stairs. They hear the Iron Bull calling after them, but they ignore it. The cool night wind hits their face, which they know has gone red, and they are off into the night.
Hello! Happy Thwee! How about Salem Lavellan and Chill Vibez?
Hi! I got "Special Girl" by Dodie. It doesn't quite fit Salem but I came across the line "Talk and tap to find a crack / Prise open till my nails turn black" and you can read the annotation on Genius Lyrics and thought to myself damn, Salem is the one who would have to be broken like an egg. So then the question became who would do the breaking? Anyways, I hope you enjoy!
WC: 274 @thedasweekend, DAI, Lavellan, Sera
Sera likes to play with people, to understand what makes them tick. Part of it is curiosity. All these people walk around with their own secrets and motives, and it's fun to bring that junk to the surface. But another part of it is finding her own safety. She needs to know where other people’s limits are, so she can push just against them and not go over. If she goes over, things get bad. And she’s having trouble figuring out Inquisitor Lavellan’s limits.
When Sera said something rude or crass that made Cassandra huff or Vivienne roll her eyes, Salem made no reaction. When Sera messed with nobles staying at Skyhold, Salem shrugged. Even when Sera stole the Inquisitor’s papers and let them fly over the library balcony, Salem quietly collected them and said nothing. It was like nothing could shake the Inquisitor, remind them that they’re just a person like the rest of them!
One day, Sera is determined to make the Inquisitor tick. Their room isn’t locked, so they don’t need to pick the lock– just another thing about Salem that they find deeply annoying. After sitting in the Inquisitor’s suite for a couple hours, Sera remembers that Salem isn’t even in Skyhold! Argh! To get back at them for the waste of time, they muss up the bed. Then for good measure, they take some clothes out of the dresser and make the room a bit messier. It brings the Inquisitor down to earth a bit if their room isn’t perfectly neat and tidy. And with that, she heads out. Maybe there’s something tasty in the kitchen she can take.
how about "pulling someone into a hug" for salem lavellan (and a companion of your choice)?
Thanks for the prompt! I had a bit of trouble deciding who exactly would hug Salem, because I imagine they don't open up easily. But I'm happy with what I wrote in the end! Maybe I'll continue it later!
“I have a question for you,” Salem asks one day, in the rookery in the attic. “A favor to ask.”
“What about?” Leliana asks, a hint of caution in her voice. While Salem enjoys Leliana’s company, the rookery is the place where Salem is most likely to let their guard down. Letting their guard down around a shem, that’s something they never thought would happen before the Inquisition.
“Can you… find out what happened to someone?” Salem asks carefully.
“Depends on the person,” Leliana replies. “Who are you looking into?”
“I don’t think I’ve mentioned this,” Salem says. “But I wasn’t always Dalish. I grew up in the alienage of Hasmal.”
Salem purses their lips. How much should they share? Even though they trust Leliana… They sigh. They need to know. “My sister showed signs of magic when she was young, and my parents wanted to keep her out of the Circle. My dad, well, he was supposed to make a distraction, keep the Templars off our tail and meet up with us when he could.”
Leliana’s face softens almost imperceptively as Salem’s words catch in their throat. “I’m assuming something went wrong?”
“Yes,” Salem says solemnly. “At the edge of the forest, the Templars caught up to us. They… they killed her. They killed Mom. Almost killed us too.”
The world blurs and Salem shakily wipes their eyes. Tears wet their hands.
“I’m sorry,” Salem says softly. For showing weakness or for asking in the first place, Salem is not sure.
Strong arms fold in around them. They straighten up, freeze. A hand rubs their back. They open their eyes and look at Leliana’s cowl, Leliana’s armor. It’s strange. They wouldn’t have expected the spymaster of the Inquisition to soften a bit for them. To show them kindness. They relax into the hug.
When Leliana pulls away, she looks determined. “So he was in Hasmal. What was his name? I’ll have my people look through the records. We’ll see what happened to him.”
Salem frowns. “Why?”
“Why?” Leliana echoes. “You… remind me of someone. Another elf who lost everything because of humans and Templars.”
“You don’t mean the Hero of Ferelden,” Salem asks. “Do you?”
“Yes,” Leliana replies. “Years ago, I helped Warden Surana find closure. Maybe I can do the same for you.”
“His name was Hed,” Salem says. “Hed Blum. You think you can find him?”
“There’s a chance,” Leliana replies.
For the first time in decades, Salem feels hope. A chance is all they need.
Question about Salem from me then! Is he more familiar to his father's culture or mother's? Did both parents have equal influence on his childhood?
His backstory is a lil sad ;^;
Up until Salem was thirteen, his mother was a big part of his life. She taught him how to make healing salves, how to speak Qunlat, and she told him stories about Par Vollen. He was 100% a momma’s boy.
A few weeks after Salem turned thirteen, he developed his magic. His mother was excited to teach him everything she knew, but unfortunately, she never got to. Ben-Hassrath agents managed to track them down, captured Salem’s mother and dragged her back to Par Vollen to be executed.
Salem wasn’t exposed to Elven culture until him and his father stumbled across Clan Lavellan.
HI I LOVE SALEM. What was their relationship with clan Lavellan?? Are they a part of inquisition? Tell them I would die for them
His relationship with the clan was strained at first. Many of the children were scared of him, and the elders were wary of his Qunari half. The only reason he was eventually accepted by the clan was because Deshanna made him her second.
hello, happy thwee! for Salem Lavellan, i see they become a veil jumper! what's that like?
Oooh thanks for the prompt! I don't know if what I whipped up is exactly on prompt but tbh its probably close enough.
WC: 865 @thedasweekend, DAI, Inquisitor Lavellan, Original Character
It is strange for Salem to see the people they grew up with living in houses. Not alienages, but alongside the people of Wycome. The aravels have been packed up in favor of long-term structures, Keeper Deshanna is now a political figure– a Dalish elf as a political figure still feels unheard of despite their own time as Inquisitor– and their darling sister is starting a family of her own.
Salem sits by Ada’s side, a hand resting on her stomach, feeling their niece or nephew kick against the walls of her womb. Their other hand, the mechanical one, lies dormant. When in motion, it whirs and clicks and hisses steam.
“I don’t understand why you can’t stay,” Ada smiles sadly. Even though she understands, she asks anyways: “Haven’t you had enough adventure for a lifetime?”
Salem sighs. They want nothing more than to go back to how it was before. They want to settle down, find a happy medium between the Dalish crafts they grew up with and the gears and mechanisms they learned to work with from the shems and dwarves. But they can’t stay still when something is happening. Last time, they didn’t have a choice, but now? Adventure is calling to them. Plus, with so many questions over Solas, no, the Dread Wolf, God of Lies, they can’t rest a moment. So much of their understanding of their people has been rewritten, they need to see the whole story.
“Things are happening in Arlathan,” Salem finally says. “Things that my actions, the actions of the Inquisition, started. I have to help.”
“If you don’t come back,” Ada threatens playfully. “I will come and find you. And I don’t think Arlathan is the place for a baby.”
“No,” Salem agrees. “It is not. But I will not leave forever. I just have to do this now.”
***
Arlathan is a lot like the Inquisition. Something always needs to be done, people always need to be helped. Arlathan is nothing like the Inquisition. While what happened within the Inquisition was nothing to sneeze at, Arlathan turns the weirdness of Corypheus on its head. And then sideways. And then somehow inside out.
Salem almost likes the weirdness that Arlathan throws at them. They like being surrounded by other Dalish elves, and those who come to Arlathan from a point of understanding and curiosity, not the kind that gawks but the kind that learns. It's a far cry from the stifling Chantry folk and Nobles that crowded around them in the Inquisition, never giving them privacy or room to exist as they are. And it is nice to grapple with the truth of who their gods are with others who understand.
Salem’s favorite thing to do within the Veil Jumpers is stabilize and tinker with the artifacts they bring back. Some of them are surprisingly useful.
In their work room, covered in grease stains and sweat, Salem leans over the small pendant-shaped piece of machine they took off a fallen sentinel. In its center, a misty blue fog swirls around. It faintly glows. The sentinel was likely protecting this object, which funnily enough wouldn’t look terribly out of place in Halamshiral attached to a chain. But what did it do? Opening a drawer in their desk, Salem grabs a device given to them by another crafty elf. Running out from it are two wires, and Salem takes one, clipping it to the top, and the other, clipping it to the bottom.
The device whirs to life, the line on a gauge steadily ticking up. So, Salem concludes as the ticking dies down at about three quarters, this thing is emanating a certain level of energy. But the artifact isn’t doing anything! Perhaps… its a power source?
Their metal and wood arm hisses as they unclip the wires from the top and the bottom. Maybe it's a power source? This isn’t the first power source they’ve found, but it might be the smallest. Salem puts the device away, looking at the artifact again. Turning around in their lab, they grab a little fan they made based on an artifact already catalogued within the Veil Jumpers’ collection. The ancient elves were clever, making portable sources of wind to cool off on the go.
If it’s a power source, and they can connect it to the fan, then the fan should turn. Maybe they need to make it a socket to sit in? They bend the metal into shape, soldering it in place so the artifact fits snuggly. From the socket, they connect a wire from the fan.
Sure enough, the fan whirs to life. Blue light spreads through the wire and into the blades themselves, and the fan goes faster than they had ever seen it go. The blades spin so fast that all Salem sees is a glowing blue circle. Salem grins. “Perfect!”
With such a small power source… maybe they could power their arm with it. They disconnect the socket from the fan, bringing the fan back to its shelf as the blades slow to a halt.
First, they’ll report their success. Then, they’ll see if Strife’ll let them use the power source for their arm.
