The day was pleasant, warm and sunny, and all was calm at last at the Winter palace. Ellana Lavellan, Herald of Andraste, destroyer of ancient darkspawn magisters, and former Inquisitor, leaned over the banister overlooking the palace gardens and stared into the distance. There was much she had to do, but couldn't quite bring herself to start just yet. Her left arm twinged where the stump met air, the ghost of a pain that should be gone by now. She grimaced. She'd been warned about it by her healers, but it didn't make the sensation any more pleasant. It was yet another reminder of what she'd lost — and what she still needed to accomplish. She sighed. Enough daydreaming.
The sound of footsteps behind her on the gravel path warned her she wasn't alone with her thoughts anymore. Recognizing this particular gait, she was smiling even before she turned around. "Varric," she said in lieu of greeting.
"Inq— " Varric stumbled on the title, stopped himself, gave Ellana a wry smile, and shrugged. "I guess I should find you some other name now that you're not Inquisitor anymore."
"Why not simply Ellana? Or Lavellan?"
"Lavellan." He pronounced the name as though it was a fragile creature to be treasured.
Ellana rolled her eyes. Varric was acting strangely. Actually, all her companions had been since finding her alone in front of the eluvian, her disintegrating left arm held in front of her in a pleading gesture. She hadn't even been aware of the pain anymore. Fortunately, Cole had known what to do. His dagger had severed the dying limb to the elbow, probably saving the rest of her arm in the process. Now that she was back safely in Orlais, they all acted as though she were made out of spun glass, avoiding the subjects of her missing arm and broken heart.
"Varric, I'm fine. Really. There's no need to tiptoe around me"
He gave her dubious look. "I've seen and written about enough tragedies to know how these things go."
She snorted, a bad habit she'd copied from Cassandra. "I'm not a character in one our of your books, and this isn't a tragedy. Not yet." Dread Wolf take it all, she refused to give up hope.
Varric threw his hands up. "Alright, point taken. What do you intend to do now?" He seemed to hesitate for a moment. "I'm leaving for Kirkwall tomorrow."
"I know."
"You could… I don't know. Come with me? The new comtesse of Kirkwall, come to visit her holdings. I have friends there who'd love to meet you."
"That's kind of you, Varric, and I might take you up on that offer later, but I still have some things I need to do here." So many things. Already, her mind was drifting in four directions at once. She needed Scout Harding to search for Morrigan and Flemeth, although she held little hope of finding Mythal's incarnation unless she allowed herself to be found. She wanted Dorian to research anything the Tevinter might know about ancient Arlathan and eluvians, and if possible recreate the elvhen technology for her use. She'd already set Leliana—not that the new divine had needed the instruction—to watching the ex-Inquisition's scouts to see where they would go next. At least one of them should reveal themselves as being an agent of Fen'Harel. She hoped to learn their destination.
And then, she had her own plans. If she were to have any hope of stopping the dread wolf, she needed to stay ahead of him. Knowing Solas, it would be a near-impossible thing to do. It was a challenge she was willing to take on, however. She would find a way to reach him before it was too late.
"Planning something?"
She smiled. "Always."
Varric smiled. "Chuckles won't know what hit him."
Her smile turned rueful. "I certainly hope so."
"Wait… I probably shouldn't call him Chuckles anymore. Calling one of the elvhen gods "Chuckles" has to be bad luck, or something."
"He's not a god." Solas had never claimed to be a god. Him and the rest of her pantheon were nothing but powerful mages. "Keep calling him Chuckles. It's good to remember he's still Solas." If Varric noticed the way her voice wavered at the end of her sentence, he didn't comment on it.
"Right. Not a god. Just a mage capable of turning an entire contingent of Qunari to stone with one thought. That's Chuckles alright." His quip wasn't entirely convincing. Varric sounded afraid of Solas. Ellana couldn't really blame him, not when the man had vowed to destroy the world and all those living in it.
"Yes. He also saved my life when he could have just as easily waited for the anchor to kill me before taking it back. He didn't need to tell me of his plans either. It has to mean something."
"If this was one of my books, I'd say he hopes to be stopped, but..." Varric left his sentence unfinished and instead shrugged.
"But this isn't one of your books," she finished for him. Still, she hoped Varric was right. She clinged to that hope with all she had, or she would drown in her own despair. She took a deep breath to clear her head and quickly changed the subject. "Thank you for everything, Varric. I won't forget it."
Before she could do or say anything more, Varric had thrown his arms around her. She froze, before relaxing and simply letting him hold her She'd not expected the hug, but now, it was bringing tears to her eyes. "Varric—"
"Least I can do," he grumbled. "You've done the same when I… when we lost Hawke."
She nodded numbly.
"You'll save Chuckles from himself. If anyone can do it, it will be you." He let her go to take a step back and smirk up at her. "And I'll never be able to write about it. No one will believe that I haven't invented the whole thing."
Ellanna couldn't help it, she laughed. "Come on Varric, it would be your masterpiece. It has everything. Love, hate, angst, false gods, and a dramatic bid to save the world. What more could your readers wish for?" She winked.
"Now, that's the spirit." Varric smiled for a moment longer before growing serious once more. "You'll keep in touch?"
"Definitely. I asked Dorian for more communication crystals. He should be sending them your way soon. I… I'll still need all of you. This fight isn't over." And with the Inquisition disbanded, a decision she couldn't bring herself to regret, she now needed them more than ever
"I'll be there whenever you need it, Lavellan, you only have to ask."
When finally Ellana parted ways with Varric, she felt like a weight had been taken off her shoulders. As long as she had friends by her side, as long as some people still believed, she would keep hoping.