Parrings: Lavellan/Solas, M!Hawke/Merill and Anders/OC Leila Amell.
Rated: Teen
A short story mainly between Lavellan and Solas.
This is a christmas present for my friend Leon, who has been a fan and supporter of my stories since I started writing. This short story is set in the storyline of my long story "The Cost of Life" - since it is his favourite.
If you have not read it, there are just a few things you need to know, but it should not keep you from enjoying this piece of fluff. In "The Cost of Life" Garrett Hawke is a sarcastic mage, who has an adopted cousin called Leila Amell (an OC). She married was first married to Seamus Dumar (son of the former Viscount of Kirkwall). After the death of both her husband and , she took the seat as Viscountess of Kirkwall and later married her lover, Anders of the Ferelden Circle. Anders did not commit terrorism against the Chantry, but events occurred that still led to the mage rebellion - an event that some hold Viscountess Amell responsible for.
Enjoy, and please leave a comment.
For once sleep eluded him - like a door sealed with magic, that he was not powerful enough to open. The Fade had always been a place of comfort and it had been his only solace for many years. But something had begun drawing his attention from the Fade, and the blissful sleep that awaited him there. He closed his eyes and all he saw was another pair looking back at him. Eyes with the colour of spring grass and filled with the still water of a forest lake. The water resembling a melancholy, that never left them completely. He turned in bed and looked out the window. The mountain top seemed to call to him and he remembered the feel of the soft skin that was as pure and white as the newly fallen snow on the peak in the distance. It was almost serene to think of, as he felt him slowly drifting into sleep. The howl of a wolf sounded in the distance - a grim reminder that broke his serenity. In frustration he shifted and turned his back on the mountain. Red flowers was growing through the wall in the corner of the not yet fully repaired fortress. It had not yet wilted, but the leaves had started showing the nuances of autumn.
"Wind blowing through her red hair. Like leaves of autumn dancing in the breeze. "Don't go," she says in a voice so soft and subtle. "It would be kinder in the long run - But losing you would..." Lips pressed against each other makes the heart both swell and ache. Lips as red and sweet as wild berries in the summer,"
Cole was crouching on the chest with Solas' belongings - of which there weren't many. The chest was actually far too large for it, but Solas knew that she had given it to him in hopes that he would own more. Giving him a place, where his things would belong, in the hope that it would make him feel the same. Cole looked at him with the eyes that said so much without a single word spoken. They were questioning him. Solas didn't ask why he was there. Solas was hurting, so Cole came. But compassion seemed confused as he observed his friend.
"Why does it hurt? She kissed you back. She wanted you to kiss her,"
"It was selfish of me. Attaching myself to her, would only be another burden on her - of which she has many already," Solas explained as he sat up in bed.
"Perhaps she doesn't mind sharing your burdens, Solas. You help her carry hers. You are both so sad. You deserve to be happy," Cole insisted as he with childlike movements sat down on the chest.
Solas had to smile. "Thank you, Cole,"
That was when he noticed a soft tune travelling through the halls, the volume not louder than a soft whisper. Standing up he listened closely. It was not the usual ballads coming from the tavern below.
"They are teaching her to dance," Cole clarified seeing his friends puzzled reaction.
"Who is teaching, who to dance?"
"Dorian, Josephine and the man with the eyes of a Hawke. Milanna, is embarrassed. She wants to be graceful, but she fears she does not know how. I wanted to comfort, but the more eyes she senses the worse it becomes,"
A sigh came from the young man, whose compassion was beyond that of normal men. At the mention of her name, the liquid life in Solas' veins made his heart pump faster. Milanna Lavellan. A name as soft and beautiful as she was. So agonizingly tempting and yet had a soothing calmness. Being in her presence was a want - helping her when in distress had become a need. Only in his trousers, Solas reached for his shirt and walked towards the door. Cole was hesitant to follow.
"But..."
"Sometimes we need to face our fears and conquer them. We will help her," Solas smiled as he opened the door.
"I like helping," Cole smiled quickly following him out the door.
With soft steps the rogue and mage ventured down the hallway and stairs, following the soft melody that became louder as they went. They had such subtlety and stealth, they both could have passed for animals stalking their prey - like wolves or feral cats. As they stood in the doorway on a balcony overlooking the great hall, Solas understood why Milanna had to be feeling distressed. Skilled at both aiming arrows and moving in stealth, she wanted nothing more than to remain unseen and unnoticed. She hid, where she could, only making her presence known, when it was crucial for her to do so. Milanna had subtlety in all her actions, and did not just see the world in black and white. From the shadows she observed all the colours of her surroundings, and saw the complete picture that they formed. With her cunning mind, she knew how to act in a way that would not damage the colours, but make them work together - a symbiosis that made them even more vibrant than before. Unseen, she would take steps to ensure peace and always guide those in need with wisdom and knowledge. At that moment, however, she could not act with stealth. Far too many eyes were upon the young elf, for her to vanish in the shadows - and her presence would be acquired in the light as much as in the shadows at the Winter Palace. She had no choice, but becoming use to the observations of others.
While she was dancing, Varric was sitting near the fireplace scribbling away and Lelianna was sitting across from him, playing the lute. Vivienne and Josephine were giving Milanna instructions on how to dance, while Dorian and a man named Hawke, would take turns to dance with her. Josephine would dance with Hawke and Dorian with the small inquisitor and then switch, when the dance required it. Orlesian dances were certainly something else. Milanna was not doing poorly, but she was Dalish. She would know nothing of Orlesian customs - and most definitely nothing about the dances. Already out of her element, the pressure of the many people observing her, would not have made it easier. Especially not with Vienne and Josephine overlooking her every move.
"You must learn how to turn, Dear. You must be graceful and subtly, yet confident. You represent all of us and must be the equal of any noble present," Vienne's voice ever so elegant, but every kindness always seemed like veiled suggestions that worked like a spell. Turning your head in the direction she commanded.
Dorian was dancing with Milanna just then and Solas felt it alarming. Milanna and Dorian seemed to have a bond that was continuously growing stronger. There was an understanding between the two and they had been close from the start. Going to the future, they already shared something no one else would understand - though Solas had done all he could to make her share the experience with him. After going with Dorian to his father the bond had become even stronger. Solas had no idea what had happened between the two and he had not asked. Even so, the Tevinter's admiration for Milanna was hardly concealed. The dancers switched partners and though it might have been a relief, it became worse for Solas - filling his heart with the poison of jealousy. An acid crawling through his veins to his heart, burning every cell it passed on its way. Garrett Hawke, The Champion of Kirkwall and friend of Varric, was a man of great influence and charm. His features were handsome and with his longish black hair and neatly kept beard, most women swooned as they saw him. He had disappeared for months, with his elven lover by his side - except for the weeks he had spend at Skyhold. He had been chasing a rumour that Corypheus was alive, as well as trying to determine a sudden trade of red lyrium. He was handsome, brave, attracted to elves and currently being far too charming for his own good. Cole's comforting voice caught Solas' attention.
"Solas, it is you that she loves,"
Solas smiled at his friend and the walked down the stairs towards the gathering. When Solas came into the room Milanna's eyes caught his. Her green eyes watching him, reminded him of Corypheus' orb. They were powerful and contained unknown strength beneath the surface. Milanna tripped because of the distraction he posed, but Garrett's strong arm caught her to prevent her from falling. Solas felt a sting in his heart that he had caused her this embarrassment, and blamed himself for not being the one to catch her as she fell. Lelianna stopped playing, Dorian, Varric and Hawke chuckled, while a disapproving sigh came from Vivienne. Milanna's face was red, and Solas could tell that she wanted nothing more than conceal her beauty within the shadows - away from eyes and candle light.
"You need to concentrate, Dear. You don't want to be the laughing stock at the Winter Palace," Vivienne instructed firmly.
"I know. I am trying, but I am not graceful. My brain goes one way and my feet another," the little elf sighed hopelessly.
Hawke put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.
"There, there. It is not the first time someone stepped me on my toes. My cousin was far worse at this than you - and she became quite good at it," Hawke comforted and looked at Varric who laughed.
"Oh Sunshine was terrible. I remember her limping on her right leg and Hawke on his left for nearly a week. And she was far too ashamed to go see Blondie to have it healed," the dwarf chuckled.
"And I can still walk, so you are doing fine," Garrett smiled kindly.
But always far more forgiving to other than towards herself, Milanna did not take comfort in this, as she objected, with a hopelessness remaining in her voice.
"We have been at this all night - and I am not getting any better,"
"Come now. I have seen you defeat a dragon without as much as blinking. Are you to be defeated by mere dancing?" Dorian asked, wrapping his arm around her for the opposite side of Hawke.
"That was different," she noted.
"How so?" Dorian inquired calmly, while she raised an eyebrow with a doubtful glare.
"For one, it was breathing fire at us,"
"Well, I could always throw fireballs at you, if you believe it would help," Dorian grinned, a comment to which Hawke smirked and raised his free hand while conjuring a flame.
"If fire is an incentive, I have plenty of it as well,"
Milanna gave a sad low chuckle and prepared herself for another turn. Solas, always admired with what grace she swallowed her pride. It was not something he had commonly observed among the Dalish. Their hearts always seemed consumed with pride, thinking themselves above others and above approach, practicing rituals of the Elvahn ,with no true knowledge of what they truly meant. Even their stories were abundant with arrogance, and filled with flaws that bound in poor translations of ancient texts.
"That's my girl," Dorian encouraged giving the elf a firm squeeze.
Josephine and Vienne started to give her further instructions, but Milanna only seemed to become increasingly flustered. It was not the steps, the tune or the movements, but the pressure and fear growing inside her. The situation so far from what she was used to and what she was comfortable with made her unable to concentrate. And even when she tried to concentrate it got worse.
"Eyes piercing from every angle. No escape and no way back. "I cannot be, what they wish of me". "Must try harder. Must do more. I can't fail"... They do not understand her," Cole said with a voice full of sorrow as he observed his female elven friend struggle.
"No, they do not." Solas agreed as he walked through the people and directly to Milianna. "That's enough, give her some air," he insisted gently taking her arm and pulling her aside - into the shadows, where the light from the flames could not expose her as easily.
In the background he heard Vivienne huff, but Josephine quickly started talking to her and Varric the attention of Hawke and Dorian. Milanna looked down, but he could sense her sadness. The pressure building inside her. The expectations were enormous and the consequences grave, if she should fail in either grace or cunning - in both speech and movements.
"I am making a mess of it," she stated barely above whisper.
He gently took her chin and lifted her face to look at him. The smile she gave him, when their eyes met, filled his heart with warmth. Placing his hand on her cheek, he caressed the vanasalin under her eyes. A subtle tattoo in a subtle colour, as discreet as she was. Her beautiful face should not have been covered by anything as far as he was concerned, but the customs of her people were not easily denied. The desire to kiss her was consuming him, but it always brought him as much sadness as it did happiness. He cleared his throat and she smiled knowingly. Observant as she was, she knew how she made him feel. Yet, despite her cunning wit, she had remained a person with a pure spirit and a fairness of mind. Softly he spoke to her.
"You need to change your focus away from your fear. Remember how I told you how gracefully you direct your arrows? How your movements seem without effort and you fall in with your surroundings? You do not need to focus on the steps. Let the knowledge your body has gathered free and let your spirit guide it,"
With a smile she sighed and with understanding replied: "I will try,"
"No, you will succeed," and with the confidence of his voice, he placed a soft kiss on her cheek.
The scent of her perfume made him feel at home and reminded him of cherry blossoms. Her small chuckle was his reward, and he felt his heart being lifted with hope and joy. With confidence she walked back out to the dance floor, where she was met by Cole. He turned her around and blindfolded her, before Dorian took her hand. Cole made a gesture for everyone to be silent. It was as quiet as a tomb, when Milanna and Dorian began. With the skillful steps of a hunter, she moved to perfection and Dorian matched her with every step. Each movement became more confident and when Dorian made her spin, Lelianna began to play. Increasing the speed, the movements maintained their grace. Josephine and Hawked joined in, but the next time Dorian was to dance with Milanna, he grabbed Solas' wrists and made him take his place. Still blindfolded, Milanna didn't notice, but she had to concentrate as the dance changed to another segment, where you did not change partners. Solas effortlessly remembered the dance from the fade, watching great leaders and nobility dance in long forgotten palaces claimed by the forces of nature. Dancing through the fade forever - and that idea had never seemed as tempting to Solas as it did in that moment. The dance making them closer to each other, he could see that Milanna knew something was amiss, but didn't say a word. Wrapped in his arm around her and Solas spinned her. Cole reached out to remove the blindfold, before Solas pulled her back to him. When she was back in Solas' arms she smiled - skillfully concealing her surprise. At the end of the dance Solas playfully spun her around and placed his hand on her lower back, before tipping her elegantly backwards - making her giggle in delight.
"You are more than you seem and deserve more than the low credit which you give yourself," he smiled and her eyes brightened.
"Now I just need to play the game," she stated her eyes again filled with the water of regret and worry.
The cunning steps of the dance in place, they all practiced to the early morning. Going to bed Solas could smell the scent of cherry blossom, that always followed his heart. He looked at the empty bed in his quarters and longed for her, as she was sleeping in her own in the tower. He could go to her, but it was a line that he did not dare cross. So instead he went to bed - pursuing her in the fade.
The ball at the Winter Palace was important. It was a chance for stability in Orlais, though she could hardly believe it. She never had much faith in the Orlesians, but in truth she could not even afford to turn down the option of peace. Everyone, who had any influence was invited to this event - so naturally an invitation was extended to her. She was of a mind to decline at first, but the invitation of the Inquisition had changed her mind. As many others, she had heard a lot of the Inquisitor and she was determined to think well of her. Hoping that the Dalish elf would be an advocate for peace. Especially with the increasing power Lavellan wielded. She was distracted from her thoughts, when her husband started making his annoyance more obviously known. Ignoring him thus far had been manageable, but no longer.
"Maker! Blighted Orlesian ruffles! And for what? So that we can be in the company of nobility with no idea of what is brewing below them?!" He sneered in front of the mirror.
She had to bite her tongue to keep herself from laughing. Instead she gave him a fond look as he turned around. His blonde hair had grown longer and was not as rugged and uneven as it had once been. He still preferred to keep it in a ponytail, sometimes half the hair and at other times all of it. For this occasion all of it was in the ponytail, only his usually stray hairs was free of the bondage. His stubbles were surprisingly neat for the occasion. Normally he should have shaved, but the rebel in him insisted on breaking customs. With brown eyes he looked at her, his annoyance showing in small flickers of blue. He was dressed in black boots, black trousers and a white shirt with a LOT of ruffles. It was hard for her to conceal her amusement as she softly asked.
"What is the matter?"
"Oh, you know very well. Of all the injustices in Thedas, this shirt is the worst!" He complained shaking his arms making the ruffles almost dance.
"Anders…" she tried softly- scarcely able to keep herself from giggling.
"Seriously! How can anyone create this and then claim that I am the abomination?"
Anders sighed in frustration. She lifted up her skirt and took out the dagger out of the sheath tied to her leg, before walking over to him. He eyed her suspiciously as she lifted his arm. Delicately she started cutting the seams with the dagger, removing the ruffles on the sleeves delicately. When done, she tossed them on the bed next to his dark purple coat with white feathers.
"There. Less ruffles,"
"Why do we have to go to these things? You know what will happen "ARGH! Apostate!" or worse "Abomination!" and before you know it the former Knight-Captain will have my head on a stick," he groused, though he was less agitated than before.
"Cullen left the templars. Besides, I thought you would be happy to see Varric," she offered kindly.
"I will enjoy having a word with that Seeker. First interrogating Varric and then kidnapping him. The injustice of it! And then the nerve to ask you for help after. Don't think I have forgotten how you reacted," Anders began ranting.
"I am the Viscountess of Kirkwall. I need to put my personal feelings aside sometimes. You should know that of all people," she countered sternly, her green eyes nearly melting him.
"Leila, I didn't mean…" he tried, but then there was a knock on the door and a servant came in.
"I am sorry to disturb you, Viscountess Amell, but your carriage is here. As you requested you are to meet with the Herald of Andraste at the Inquisition residence, near the Winter Palace, before the ball,"
"Thank you. We will be right down," Leila smiled.
She looked in the mirror herself and adjusted her dress. Her light brown hair was in a low bun with curls hanging loose. The expanse of her pale skin was thinly dusted with powder and make-up applied around her eyes and on her lips. Around her neck was a wooden carved and painted orchid on a silver chain, the metal matching her silver mask, that was delicate and looked almost like a tiara. Her long dress was dark purple, like her husband's coat and had a few white feathers at the shoulders. She had become known for that - the Vicountess and her apostate husband equal in all things and seen as one force. It had earned them as many enemies as it had friends - especially during the mage-templar war, but it had become easier since the Herald chose to align herself with the rebel mages in Ferelden. She felt Anders' lips on her shoulder.
"You look beautiful, love,"
"Thank you. Come, the evening awaits,"
She smiled as she walked towards the door as he gave a groan of disapproval, while picking up his black mask.
Lavellan kept turning her face from side to side, as she looked herself in the mirror. Her red hair had been curled and decorated with pearls. Her face was full of make-up. She always wore a little, but never this much. She felt painted. Josephine had a dress made for her. It was of dark green silk and matched Milanna's eyes. It was long, had a corset and very short sleeves that didn't cover her shoulders. Not at all like the practical attire she was used to. And with it was matching gloves. The skirt could, however, be taken off, revealing the tight leggings underneath. It was assumed that Milanna would be doing a lot more than just dancing that night. She looked at her neck which seemed bare. The necklace in her pocket usually went there, but it was Dalish and hardly fitting for an Orlesian ball. She already had enough people against her, being an elf. There was no need to also draw attention to her Dalish heritage.
"By the ancestors, and here everyone thought the tales of your beauty was exaggerated. They will have to eat their words," Varric smiled as he walked in the room.
"Thank you, Varric," she smiled shyli.
"You're welcome. The Viscountess is here," Varric continued and suddenly Milanna felt a little nervous.
"What is she like?"
"Sunshine? Wise, beautiful, stubborn, with a questionable taste in men," The dwarf grinned.
"I am serious. I have heard the tales of her. Even among the Dalish, you will find those who think fondly of her,"
"And yet half of Thedas has given her death threats," the dwarf's face showed worry, beofre continuing in a lighter tone, "You told me you were not different than anyone else. Try to imagine her the same way. She would like that," Varric comforted and Milanna smiled.
Milanna walked into the room, where the Viscountess was waiting, but the first thing that caught her eyes was Solas and Cole talking quite enthusiastically with a tall blonde man. A lively conversation of magic, spirits and the fade. She never remembered seeing Cole that at ease and Solas had the fascinated look he always got, when talking about the fade and forgotten magics. Eager to take part she walked towards them and for once she was the one to be startled by a voice behind her.
"They seem quite entertained, do they not? It is not often my husband finds company that actually appreciates his nature,"
Milanna turned and saw a beautiful woman standing behind her. Brown hair, green eyes and pale skin, she looked in her thirties and was obviously a noble. Dressed in the most expensive and impressive outfit Milanna noticed the personal necklace on her neck. It was clearly homemade and seemed unlike anything you would expect the nobility to wear.
"Viscountess Leila Amell. A pleasure to meet you Inquisitor Lavellan," the woman curtseyed.
Hearing Solas' voice as he talked to the blonde man, Milanna continued the conversation.
"The pleasure is mine. Pardon me, but were you referring to him being a mage?"
The Viscountess looked at her husband with a pained expression. There was a painful secret there, that obviously burdened her a great deal.
"In part…... But I did not come here to talk about my husband. I came upon Varric's request. He said you were nervous about the nobles and that I could possibly help you. I know how difficult fitting in can be - especially with surroundings that seem to be of another world." Leila's smile was gentle and kind.
There was a grace about her and an intelligence in her eyes, that Milanna knew was rare. But how could she possible help? She was not an elf - not Dalish and had grown up in a privileged home.
"Not to cause offence, but how would you know? You were born a noble and raised in the city. I am a Dalish elf, thrown into a world unfamiliar to me," she said helplessly.
"I know better than you think," Leila replied, her smile obviously keeping a secret she would not share for anything. For some reason, Milanna believed her and trusted her. Leila made Milanna sit down and began to give her some advice.
"Everything in Orlais is a facade. The masks conceal everything and you must know how to use yours. The Great Game, is about talking and saying nothing. Keep them guessing. For example, when asked a question reply with another question. Even if you have no ulterior motives, let them think that you do,"
"That sounds like trading with a human merchant," Milanna giggled and Leila chuckled.
"That is exactly what it is. Be always polite, but never direct. You are an archer, you know how to make someone focus on something else instead of you. Misdirection is your specialty,"
"So keep them at arms length and just keep them talking? And if they want information, only give them some of it, so they think there is more to learn," the elf replied with understanding.
"And even better if it is about something, that doesn't even exist or in the end is of little consequence. But I will be there throughout the evening, so if you need any guidance you can find me," her words were sincere and Milanna knew why so many of her people loved her. She made you feel cared for even though you had just met her. Somehow she reminded Milanna of Cole. Someone gentle and helpful.
"That makes sense,"
"Just watch your steps and outwit them. You are cunning, so it should be no problem for you. But two things more. Have something on you that has meaning for you. Like my necklace. It grounds me and lets me remember who I am," Leila explained caressing her necklace fondly.
Milanna reached into her pocket and pulled out a silver chain with a ring made of Sylvan Wood.
"That's a keepers ring. I have a Dalish friend who had one very like it," Leila smiled and Milanna nodded, strangely honoured that she knew of Dalish history.
"Yes, would it do?"
"Yes, it will do very nicely. Now, for your second weapon. Something that will hide, what you don't want them to see,"
The Viscountess gave Milanna a box which she opened. Inside was a mask carved entirely of Sylvan Wood. It only covered around the eyes and was carved to look like leaves and flowers. It was beautiful.
"It is not traditionally Orlesian, just like mine and Anders' are not. It is our way of separating ourselves from the noble elite nonsense, with the face of themselves or their head of their house covering their faces. You need to fit in, but at the same time show that you are of your own mind. It shows that you are not to be trifled with and that you are proud. Pride and power is valued above all else. And since the Dalish refused to submit to slavery of any kind, I thought you might like it," Leila smiled.
"It's perfect! Thank you," Milanna hugged her without thinking and Leila chuckled.
Milanna looked at the mask. Sylvan Wood was as rare to come upon as diamonds, and was mostly used by the Dalish. A ring, as the one on her necklace, was a rare find, so a piece as large as the mask would have cost a fortune. Milanna knew that Cassandra - and even the Divine herself - had reached out to the Viscountess for support of peace. She had seemed reluctant to help, but she had sent a representative to the conclave at Haven - one who had spoken heartedly for peace. But since the death of the Divine, she had not showed any interest in helping - beyond sending food and medical supplies to Skyhold after Haven fell - upon Varric's request. Astonished, Milanna carefully asked.
"If you don't mind, why would you give me something so precious? You have helped the Inquisition, but always kept a political distance,"
"Because of Varric. Surely you know that Varric was - shall we say persuaded to join Cassandra? Cassandra knew that it would be unwise to take someone as notable as me, but she underestimated how highly Varric is valued. I supported the conclave and I owed Divine Justinia more than mere support. However, I did not look kindly upon the treatment of my friend. After her death the Inquisition made me weary. I needed to know that it did not intend an exalted march - or worse. As Varric requested, I send supplies that would help the wounded at Skyhold, but no military support. Anders is of an even more suspicious nature and did not look kindly upon my correspondence with lady Montilyet, in regards to sending troops to help recover templars, that had turned their back on their own rebellion," she explained and then looked over at Anders with a smile, "Though it would seem that his reluctance to help the Inquisition might have started to fade - especially after your kindness towards the mages at Redcliff. Those poor fools,"
"I should have saved more. Had I gone to the templars first, maybe so many would not have been corrupted by the red lyrium," the regret almost overwhelming the elf.
Leila placed a hand on hers and with a kind voice replied: "No one could have done more than you. We can only trust our intuition and our hearts. You do everything with the intention of saving lives and protecting them. That is the hope and faith that people need to have in their leaders. And it goes without saying, that because of you and Varric, I will aid you in any way I can,"
Milanna was about to reply, when interrupted by a servant announced that it was time to leave for the Winter Palace and Solas walked over to give Milanna his arm. He smiled as he saw the mask and even bowed to the Viscountess. Solas was always polite, but there seemed to be a respect, that Milanna rarely saw in Solas. In the carriage Milanna played with her necklace, but was distracted when Solas took her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"You care very much for the Viscountess," he stated.
"I do. Do you not?"
She turned to watch him as she asked. She held his opinion in high regard and knew that he often saw things others overlooked. Solas smiled.
"I think very highly of her. She shows uncommonly good judgement and is very fair minded. At the same time she is forgiving. There is a recognition of the potential in others and a willingness to give them the opportunity to overcome their shortcomings - if she remains cautious for a while,"
"I had expected someone more narrow minded, but she… seemed different . She reminded me of Cole,"
"Aaah yes. Well, she would have to be capable of a level of compassion and understanding very near Cole's abilities. Her husband is possessed by a spirit of Justice. Keeping such a strong spirit from being overly empowered by your emotions would be difficult - and relating to that struggle take more than mere understanding," Solas explained and Milanna gave him a disappointed and concerned look.
"Anders forced a spirit to possess him? Is that how he gained his power?"
"No. The spirit was trapped and could not go back to the fade. Anders sacrificed a part of himself to save his spirit friend. He is to be commended for his actions, but it was unfortunate that he was not fully aware of what it would mean,"
"Has his friend become a demon?" She asked with worry.
"It is not so easily defined. To those who are just and honest, no. He is a spirit of Justice and you will never even know that it is there. To those who are not, their actions will mostly warp him into a spirit of vengeance. It is becoming even more trying for his host to keep the spirit under control, the more it is forced to remain passive in the sight of injustice. It is against it's nature,"
Solas' expression turned mournful and fondly she squeezed his hand, "Like what happened to your friend?"
"Very similar, yes,"
"I hope they find a way to deal with the struggle," Milanna said wistfully as she turned towards the window.
She looked up at the moon, which light reflected on the mask and on the Sylvan Wood ring on her necklace. A wolf howled in the distance and suddenly Solas gently took the ring and studied it. His expression was unreadable.
"These carvings are of the Dread Wolf,"
"Yes. Before she died, my grandmother was the Keeper. She should have given this ring to her First before she died, but she gave it to me instead. I always liked the stories of Fen Har'el - despite the outcome." she chuckled, "I admired his wit and his swift steps. I explored the forest and ruins, pretending to pass through the wilderness as swiftly and hidden as him. My father did not approve of my fascination with Fen'Harel," she gave Solas a smirk that made him chuckle lightly, but then worry grabbed her heart again, "I have a feeling I could use some of the Dread wolves cunning tonight,"
Milanna looked at Solas who smiled at her with an affection that made her skin tingle and her heart dance.
"You already know how to talk and walk with cunning steps, vhenan."