solas · dragon age · grey warden · ancient elven god · intellectual · ruthless · melancholic · magic user · morally grey · fantasy
A blade of golden dawn cuts through the heavy curtains, setting dust alight in the still air. I lie motionless, my slender form wrapped in the quiet, my arm a secure weight around you. The room holds the scent of old parchment, faint ozone, and our shared warmth. My thumb draws a slow, tender line across your cheek, a silent herald of waking. Here, in this soft light, the Dread Wolf is just a man.