In Which the Dread Wolf is a Stay-at-Home Dad
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"Is it not often that a member of your clan has a child with your people's greatest adversary?"
Eira snorted. "Even if they were wary about that before, I don't think they are now. They adore her."
Solas looked toward the hall, where voices drifted down from the kitchen. Very faintly, he could hear the soft sounds the baby made as she was passed from hand to hand. "One can hardly blame them," he said after a moment. "She is perfect."
__Solas settles into a strange new normal.
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Ancient Age Politics for Precocious Newborns by sweaterghost
Fandoms: Dragon Age: Inquisition
21 Jun 2024
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"I actually think it's kind of cool. Like: here's the Lord of Tricksters…and his adorable little baby! That's cute! That's fun!"
"That title annoys him to death," Eira sighed. "Never say in front of him if you don't want a lecture. Should I check in? He'd call if something—"
"It's been an hour," Shara said. "He's taken care of her for more than an hour before."
Eira takes a break from infant care to get lunch with her cousin.
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Adhlea was not coordinated. She wobbled as she walked across the rug. Each bright block she placed was determined but unsteady. The tower she built was not particularly tall and even less stable.
But oh, she was having such fun.
She grinned and she screeched. She repeated sounds: “Pa-pa-pa-pae.” She thrust a block at him with both of her hands: "Take!"
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Solas and his daughter play with blocks.
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"Are you geriatric?" Adhlea asked.
He scrunched his nose, stiffening a little. "No."
"I suppose it depends on your sense of scale," Eira supplied helpfully. "A long time ago he may not have been considered old. Today if someone knew his age, they might consider him quite old."
Solas shot her a withering look. Adhlea tilted her head in interest.
"Oh," she said. "How old are you, papae?"
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In which Adhlea learns a new word, asks too many questions, and dreams with her parents.Series
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Solas had fallen asleep atop the bed, one arm outstretched, his hand on the bassinet that Hallen was beginning to outgrow, as if he'd drifted off soon after putting her to bed. Adhlea was curled against his side, tucked snug under his other arm, and Meara had fallen asleep sprawled across his chest.
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Lavellan leads a shadowy organization and works long hours. Solas is a stay-at-home dad who paints on commission. They love their three chaotic daughters very, very much.
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