Fanfic writer with a passion for exploring romantic relationships // Fandoms: Horizon Zero Dawn, Mass Effect, and Dragon Age // Fandom: Dragon Age, Horizon Zero Dawn, Mass Effect
“Hmmm… Elvyr’el uralas’jul, min jul. elvyr’el min.”
Elia jolts as Solas’s hand slides around her ribs and up over her breast. It’s pitch-dark in the bedroom, clearly still the deepest part of the night.
“Mm?” she mumbles, mostly asleep.
He slowly shifts closer and molds his naked body against her back. His lips braise her shoulder blade, slow and firm. His thumb drifts across her nipple, and she inhales slowly as the tender peak rises to attention at his touch.
“Elvyr’el. Vhallal’el,” he mutters. “Lana esh’ala dera sulrahn tundra es’var sael ventar’en tor elgar’vhenan.”
Elia smiles sleepily, but doesn’t bother to open her eyes. Clearly he’s dreaming. She can barely decipher his words, and part of her wants to ask him what he’s dreaming about, but the main part of her mind is still buried in a languorous layer of sleep.
His teeth against her neck, now. A sweet and gentle bite, not at all painful, like he’s simply testing the texture of her skin.
Then his hips pump against her bottom, riding the steely rod of his late-night wood against the cleft of her bottom.
Elia sighs with a soporific contentment as Solas slowly rubs himself against her. She and Solas are usually reserved in their affection during the day, but his barriers seem to drop late at night. He has a habit of entangling himself with her in his sleep, and Elia has forgotten what it’s like to sleep without the beloved stroke of her lover’s hands.
Not that she’s complaining at all. Sometimes the press of his body becomes something more sensual, and sometimes it doesn’t, but either way, the result is the same: she’s wrapped in the tight embrace of his affection, and it’s more comforting than the warmest down duvet.
This probably won’t become more than grinding tonight, though. The pillows are so cozy, and his naked body is so nice and warm, and she really is quite perfectly comfortable; Solas can keep touching her if he likes, she doesn’t mind, she’s just going to drop off again…
Solas’s hand abandons her breast to reach between his legs and adjust himself, and Elia’s lips part on an involuntary little gasp as his cock slides between her legs.
He squeezes her breast again, then nips her shoulder blade a bit more firmly. “Tundrast. Himash elvar, ar eolasa.”
The customary smoothness of his voice is rough with sleep, and the slightly feral sound of it begins to wake her just as surely as his cock between her legs. He slides against the apex of her thighs, teasing her through the silk of her smalls, and Elia arches her spine and presses her bottom back against his groin.
Solas releases a breathy groan. His hand slides down to her belly, then his arm bands around her waist in a hard embrace. His cock is riding hard between her legs, and Elia can hear her own breathing growing harsh as she thrusts back against him.
Suddenly she finds herself flat on her back. His authoritative hand is on her hip, and his lips travel from her hipbone to her navel, sliding lower, his hot breath ghosting over the wetness she knows is pooling between her legs, and Elia twists her hips toward his face with a tremulous gasp. “Solas,” she mewls.
“Yes, Inquisitor?” he purrs in the common tongue.
She finally opens her eyes, but she can just barely make out the silhouette of his pointed ear in the pitch-black night. “So now you’re aware of what you’re doing, are you?” she says breathlessly.
“I am never unaware of what I do in the Fade,” he murmurs. He lowers his face and drops another kiss between her legs.
A breathtaking rush of lust ripples up through her abdomen, and she lifts her hips toward his face. “You’re not in the Fade now, my love,” she pants.
Solas rises to his knees, then shifts between her legs. His fingers slide under the hem of her smallclothes, and his voice slides over her desire-drugged mind. “Here in this bed with you, the feeling is the same,” he replies. “It is like the darkest and most peaceful corners of the Fade, where paths trail untouched into the deepest edges of memory.” He peels her smallclothes away, then leans forward and lowers his lips to her belly.
Elia trembles as he whispers a quiet word against her skin. A moment later, a tiny shiver of green light appears at the meeting point of her body and his mouth. He sweeps his fingers over the mote of light, then gently releases it to the air.
The tiny pinprick of light floats gently above them, a faint wavering shiver of illumination that allows Elia to see the half-smile on his handsome face. Without another word of warning, he delves his tongue into her wetness.
Elia cries out in surprise and arches shamelessly toward his face. He feasts with a single-minded focus, his tongue lapping firmly at her swollen little nub while his lips stroke her tender folds in a gentle caress. She tries to grind toward him, to lift her hips closer to his mouth, but his hands hold her firm, forcing her to take only what he gives.
She clenches her fists in the pillow and arches her spine, feels the ebb and flow of his tongue as it slicks across her swollen bud and down along the length of her folds, and all at once her rapture spills over her. It’s thrumming through her, pouring from the power of his tongue through the apex of her thighs and out through her limbs and rendering her blind.
She shudders and jolts helplessly against the bed. “Solas,” she sobs. “Solas, please…”
Suddenly he’s behind her again, his hand pushing her firmly onto her side and his cock riding fast and hard between her thighs. She’s slick for him, hopelessly and utterly wet for him, and she mewls with distress as he teases her folds with his steely length.
He angles his lips low, and she twists her bottom toward him, and – yes, gods and spirits and demons yes – he’s inside of her, pushing in and filling her so deeply she can almost feel the pleasure of him resonating in her throat. She bucks back against him, wanton and wild and no longer remotely tired, and all she wants is more more more please Solas more–
He pries her legs apart, lifting her upper leg and hooking her ankle behind his knee, and the spreading of her legs only drives her lust even higher. She’s spread wide for him, exposed and open and vulnerable, but Solas’s arm is firm around her waist, and his beautiful lips are panting their pleasure against her neck.
This, Elia realizes, is how it’s always been with him: she’s open wide, offering him her heart and her body and whatever spirit must live inside. Solas takes what she offers, and he cradles it so carefully in his strong and slender fingers, and the love he gives in return is nothing short of bliss.
Yes, she thinks, it’s bliss; that’s the feeling of his cock driving hard and deep along the deepest parts of her, his hand sliding carefully across her curves, the whimper of pleasure that bleeds from his tongue into his teeth as he bites her shoulder in his release.
In the sweetness of their afterglow, he carefully unhooks her leg from over his own, and Elia sighs happily as she languishes in his arms. She savours his breath against her neck and the tightness of his embrace, and before she can move to rise and clean herself up, sleep begins to creep back in.
It weighs on her eyelids and coaxes her heart to a slow and steady beat. In the last moment right before the Fade snatches her away, she feels his kiss against her neck and his voice against her ear.
“On nydha, vhenan. I will meet you there.”
She smiles sleepily as the dreamy darkness takes her. I know you will, she thinks. She can always count on him to meet her in the Fade.
Elvyr’el uralas’jul, min jul. elvyr’el min.= The softer linen, this one. It’s softer here.
Elvyr’el. Vhallal’el. Lana esh’ala dera sulrahn tundra es’var sael ventar’en tor elgar’vhenan. = Softer. More welcoming. Let them touch something gentle for their first steps from the Fade.
Tundrast. Himash elvar, ar eolasa. = Gently. The transition is hard, I know.
Athera glanced doubtfully at Skyhold’s dank prison cells, then smirked at Abelas. “Is this your idea of a romantic date?”
The Sentinel shot her a chiding look. “You must be patient. Some of the best destinations are the culmination of the most inglorious paths.” He reached out and took her hand. “Not much further now.”
Athera eyed him thoughtfully as he led her through the enclosed section of the prison and out toward the crumbling outer section, which opened out into a breathtaking – and vertiginous – view of the Frostback Mountains. The ancient stone floor in the center of this area had disintegrated completely, the ground giving way to the roaring waterfall that pulsed beneath the castle. Athera and Abelas skirted the edges of the walls, their bare feet carefully navigating the slippery path as he led her toward the outermost cell where the ground gave way to open sky.
He turned to her and took her hands. “We must climb partway down this wall. There are handholds, but I will give you some extra protection.”
He gently squeezed her hands, and a tingling warmth suffused her palms. She gave a little shiver at the unusual sensation, then smiled cheekily at him. “What, you don’t trust my balance? I’ll have you know I’m very nimble.”
“I know you are,” he said smoothly, and Athera bit the inside of her cheek in amusement as he graced her with a rare smirk. “But I do not take foolish chances. Now come.”
He began to climb down the wall, and as Athera followed him down, she marvelled at the effect of his magic on her hands; her grip felt stronger somehow and her palms almost sticky, but not in a disgusting way. She was quite sure that even if she tried to release the ancient stones of the wall, her hands would refuse to let go.
A short time later, her toes touched grass, and Abelas gallantly took her hand to help her find her footing as she looked around. He had led her to a narrow stretch of land, enclosed on the northeast by Skyhold’s majestic walls and sloping further down the mountain to the south. The waterfall had softened into a river that bissected this small stretch of land before flowing down to the south.
It was a lovely little spot. The grass underfoot was long and lush, and it tickled her ankles as she wiggled her bare toes. The area was scattered with hardy wildflowers that thrived in the cooler climes of the mountains, and the stars were startlingly bright overhead without the shroud of Skyhold’s torches to dim them.
“Wow,” she breathed. “This is a really nice spot. It’s so untouched.”
“Yes. It is very private,” Abelas agreed. “It is a purposely difficult path to follow.”
Athera frowned curiously. “Why?”
“It was once an emergency escape route,” he explained. “In case Tarasyl’an Te’las should ever be overrun.”
She released a tiny laugh at the thought. Skyhold overrun? The Inquisition’s castle might be ancient and falling apart in places, but Cullen and the Inquisition’s dwarven stonemasons all agreed it was the most impregnable fortress they’d ever encountered.
Abelas tilted her chin up to face him, and Athera’s amusement faded at the seriousness of his face. “Nothing is infallible, vhenan,” he said softly. He studied her face for a moment, then turned away to watch the rushing flow of the river. “Even the strongest structures can fall. It is often just a matter of time.”
Abelas and Athera Lavellan for @pikapeppa! Thank you so much for commissioning me! ❤
The inimitable @hansaera did this GORGEOUS art for my tragic baes to accompany a scene from The One Who Will Live On – I’m so thrilled with this image, I can’t even express!
The scene that inspired this beautiful art is below… ^_^
*************
The voices of the Vir’Abelasan were particularly loud that night, and she’d been having trouble blocking them out. Her wayward hair roiled around her shoulders like a nest of snakes, and the susurrus of incomprehensible Elvhen voices was increasingly difficult to ignore.
She’d turned to Abelas in desperation. “Do you know a spell or anything to control this?” she pleaded. “I might cut my damn hair off if it doesn’t stop. I think I’d make a more charming egghead than Solas.” The joke was weak, but the sentiment was genuine; she could barely hear herself think through the increasingly vocal whispers.
Abelas had frowned at her for a long moment, and Athera initially thought he was going to refuse. Then he reached out and stroked his fingers through her hair.
A sudden shock rippled from her scalp clear down to her toes, and her breath abruptly stalled in her chest. Abelas slowly wound the length of her hair around his fist, then leaned in close.
“You’ve been walking on the edge of life and death. I can tell.” Suddenly Nil reached towards her and cupped the right side of her neck in one large palm, then ran his thumb over the scar on her neck left by Helis.
Aloy’s breath suddenly caught in her throat at the heat of his hand on her skin. A shiver of unfamiliar warmth ran over her body and pooled in her belly, then lower, in her feminine core.
Nil spoke, and his voice was low, deep, and intimate. “Now this scar… That’s a true sign of victory. A neat dance at death’s edge, a bloody scrabble to stay alive, like a fingertip along the edge of a knife.” He looked so hungry that goosebumps rose on Aloy’s arms, and she couldn’t decide if it was a good feeling or a bad one. She frowned and folded her arms, then stepped back just out of his reach, ignoring the tingling warmth that suffused her body.
“This scar isn’t victorious,” she said quietly. “It’s a reminder of terrible things that I had to live through.”
Nil tilted his head quizzically. “But you’re still standing. That’s a victory in itself. Isn’t this a thing to savour, if it’s a trial you’ve overcome?”
Aloy was quiet. She could see his point, and she was mildly surprised by his sudden insightfulness. But the pain of Rost’s passing was still too sharp. “Not yet,” she said finally. “Maybe someday.”
Stream doodles set 1 of 2, since different fandoms get different responses. First up are the Fade Boys Cole and Solas, followed by Dread Pup Fen’Harel. I just… really wanted to draw hair and it just happened.
Thank you to everyone who came tonight, I had a blast! ❤
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The Sharper Edge of Love: Romance, Sex, and Fanfic 