Meet Inquisitor Elissandra Trevelyan

What I love about DA:I is the fact they randomly generate people of colour in the crowds during the cut scenes. I've seen the same NPCs in various shades.

I designed my Inquisitors based upon the stories I wished told. Because Cullen's romance is limited to female humans and elves, I made her human, having already played through as a female elf Inquisitor. I prefer playing as a rogue, but the story possibilities of a relationship between a Circle mage and tortured former Templar on the background of a mage-templar war were too intriguing to pass up. I made her a knight-enchanter so I could engage in hand-to-hand combat and because of the ties of their order to the Divine, which would make Cullen feel less uneasy around a mage. I made her a person of colour (she's half Rivaini) because Cullen is so fair and I'd like to think he'd find her looks exotic compared with the average Fereldan and Free Marcher. I personally think she's quite beautiful and, after all he's been through, I thought Cullen deserved to be with someone beautiful:

More Solas Fan Fiction: Us, Wot's Left

So, after listening to Mr. Weekes' latest interview with Nerd Appropriate, it seems that the reason for the late addition of the Solas romance to Dragon Age: Inquisition was "in a way, to make it sadder" (55:12). Evidently, Messrs. Gaider and Weekes subsist on crystallized fan tears. Turquoise crystallized fan tears. I decided to dedicate this to them.

Us, Wot's Left

“That’s the word out of Halamshiral.” Sera, listening, hung back in the stairway, covered plate in hand, still warm from the kitchens.

“Is that why Celene keeps sending ale-fattened ram? I’m not complaining, my men haven’t eaten better in weeks, but it’s hardly what she must have intended. You’d think she’d know about elves and meat.”

“We need to quash these rumours of wasting sickness; already the wolves lie waiting in the shadows and Celene is right to be worried. Let’s make it known Inquisitor Lavellan will be touring Inquisition holdings in the Western Approach. That will buy us some time.”

“To do what, Leliana? Lady Vivienne’s herbs remain untouched. Apparently, the Inquisitor detests tea.”

“Perhaps they need to find another way to her, Josie. One word to the kitchens-”

“I won’t be party to deceiving the Inquisitor. The healers can find nothing wrong. I agree with the idea of sending her out west, but I have every confidence she’ll get through whatever this is,” Sera heard the sternness in Cullen’s voice and pictured him glaring at the spymaster, “on her own.”

They’d be coming out soon. The Antivan chocolate was still in its box where she had left it on Josephine’s desk. Good. Back to the tavern, then.

As the chocolate melted in its little pot over the candle flame, Sera caught herself singing- Sera was never an agreeable girl…gah! Andraste’s blessed arse! Can’t that Maryden sing something else? Catchy tune, though…

That gentle tap at the door never ceased to surprise her. Maker’s balls, the woman's taken down dragons. Ten of them. And finished off a couple of them single-handed. Felt like a right tit when I woke up and it was all over.

“I think I’ve cracked it. This time. ‘Us’ cookies,” she announced, cheerfully, as the door opened. She looked over at the Inquisitor. The woman had always been thin, but now Sera could swear she was almost transparent. All eyes. Sera went back to minding the chocolate so the Inquisitor wouldn’t see her worry. Too hot and it would seize and no amount of butter would bring it back.

“You know what they say: tenth time’s a charm,” her friend said wryly.

“Well, yeah. You need cookies. Have you seen yourself?”

“I’m fine, Sera.”

“Anderfels butter. Nevarran black sugar. And, the pest dee resistonz, spiced Antivan chocolate.” She removed the napkin with a flourish, which earned her a laugh. Good. Lavellan needed to laugh more often.

They ate on their usual rooftop. Sera glared at the half-eaten cookie on the Inquisitor’s napkin, the once-steaming mug of tea now cooling, untouched. Already, the elf was staring absently at the distant scar in the cloudless sky. Sera growled, then hurled her own cookie, nearly hitting one of Leliana’s ravens, who cawed back, indignantly.

“It’s still friggin' Sol-arse, innit? And that’s probably not even his real name. Why you’d change your face for that smug, selfish, son of a-“

“She remembers cinnabar-stained fingertips tracing paths on skin by firelight. She feels new, like-"

“Shut it, Creepy. No one wants to hear it. Least of all, her.” Just like Cole to poke his nose where it wasn't wanted.

“She hurts. She thinks if she dreams enough, she’ll find him. Or he’ll find her. She wants to forget, but can’t. Or won’t.”

“Stop messin' about in her head. I’m warning you…”

“Let him help, Sera. I’ve kept too much to myself these past weeks.” Sera was too startled by the Inquisitor's sudden return to the present to finish her threat. She looked over to the pale, not-boy, who her friend had come to resemble more and more, and nodded warily.

“Fragrant moss. Just as he likes. She lets water, warm, wash over her. Wait. Something’s wrong. Red. Blood in scented bathwater. She stands up, more red trickling down her thighs. She thought the pain would be sharper, but it’s dull, steady, unstoppable. No, not this, too. She covers her mouth with both hands so no one will hear. Don’t take this, too.”

Sera could feel tears streaming down her cheeks. She wanted to punch Cole for showing her this pain. No, the Inquisitor, for holding this to herself all this time while worrying half of Thedas. No. She wanted to punch that heartless bastard. Sol-arse.

“I’m ready to forget, Cole.”

“Forget what, Inky? Tea’s not going to drink itself.” Sera watched with satisfaction as the elf-woman took a long gulp from her mug, finished off the rest of her cookie and bit into another. “About time, yeah, because, you know, rain." She frowned, touching her cheek, before breaking back into a wide grin. "Good, innit? So, when are we headed west?”

More Solas Fan Fiction: To Any and All Gods Who Would Hear Me

To Any and All Gods Who Would Hear Me

Whoever Solas truly is, wherever he came from, he has deceived us from the very start.
-Excerpt from correspondence between Inquisition Spymaster Leliana and Inquisitor Lavellan

Though I will it to steel, my rebellious heart will not obey
For it still loves a man whose name it never knew
And my traitorous body still craves his touch
That I fear I may go mad with longing and remembrance.
Teach it cunning, then,
To know all the secret ways that it might not be fooled again
Give me the heart of Fen'Harel
And I will serve you with all that is in my power to give.

Third Letter to Solas: The Memory of Fire

Cullen's much easier to love, but Solas brings back my teenage angst.

Fun Facts:

Cinnabar, the common ore of mercury (mercury itself, being named after the trickster Roman god), was used to make the red pigment vermilion in Roman frescoes.

Erasthenes mentions adding a teaspoon of cinnabar to a lit burner in the Shrine of Dumat during the quest, "Under Her Skin".

The Memory of Fire

When you left, I pressed cheek and palm to cool plaster, my way lit by veilfire, searching for some secret trace of you. But your brushstrokes were invisible, as the paths your cinnabar-stained fingertips traced on my skin, turned gold by evening firelight.

Even yet your touch transforms me, changing the topography of my body in a thousand subtle ways, and though you never intended it, two hearts shall beat together once more.

-A yellowed note found in the cracked stonework of an unfinished Skyhold fresco

Second Letter to Solas

So, after completing DA:I, I visited Cole one last time.

“I’m sorry, Cole, but with your gift, I fear that you will see the path I now must walk in solitude forever. This fate is mine alone. Indeed, I would not wish it on an enemy, much less someone that I once cared for. Though you reach out in compassion, I must now insist that you forget. I-I'm...Wha-What were we talking about? I'm ready to help people when you are.”

Once

Once, the only certainty I knew was your hand on the small of my back, the quickening of my pulse as lips brushed belly and breast, your soft, regular breathing as you dreamt beside me: I was yours.

Once, I believed we would walk all the paths of this world and the other together and I was unafraid because you were mine.

Then I heard you say in another’s voice: once and since, have known nothing.

-A crumpled, ink-smudged missive found in a locked box thought to belong to Inquisitor Lavellan

In Another Life, a letter to Solas inspired by Dragon Age: Inquisition

So, I finished DA:I. I specifically chose to play as a Dalish elf because I wanted to explore the Solas romance written by Patrick Weekes. Unfortunately, despite Gareth David-Lloyd's note-perfect performance, I found his character so insufferable, and, unable to romance Dorian (voiced by the delightfully mercurial Ramon Tikaram), I romanced Cullen, instead. (Though, given dialogue by the masterful Brianne Battye and an arresting, yet nuanced, performance by Greg Ellis, one could hardly call it a hardship.)

Nevertheless, after witnessing the ending, I decided as abrasive, confounding, and, well, downright creepy as Solas could be, my masochistic Inquisitor would go the distance. (You'd think with all the memories he had seen in the Fade, he'd pick up on what not to say...) The proverbial scales fell from my eyes in his final romantic cut-scene. Solas' facial expressions were so movingly rendered, every misgiving I had faded to insignificance.

In Another Life

In another life, I would have prayed to Dirthamen, Keeper of Secrets, to reveal where my Heart had hidden, to Andruil to grant me swiftness that I might soon be at his side, and, should dark Falon’Din meet him first, to turn him away and guide his steps back to me. But if there ever were gods, they do not listen, as I did not listen.

You sought to free me, but did you not understand that removing my vallaslin only bound me to you, as surely as any geas? My clansmen see my face, now a mirror of your own, and turn away. I have not even the comfort of dreams, though I sleep in the hollow your body made in our bed.

You told me to harden my heart to a cutting edge. How can I, when I still burn unquenchable as veilfire? Mythal did not speak of this price, this sorrow.

Come to me soon, Vhenan. I would tear open the heavens again if I knew I would find you on the other side.

-A letter found in the secret compartment of the desk of Inquisitor Lavellan

Addendum: It seems I have Jonathan Epp to thank for animating Solas.