"No matter what comes, I want you to know… what we had was real…"

Those words echoed in her head as they reached the gates of Skyhold. The stone walls stood tall and impressive as a sign of security for those behind them, but today they felt oppressive to Venethiel. They seemed to tower over her more than usual as she walked on the drawbridge, and despite everyone's celebrations and congratulations, she felt smaller than ever. The cold winds were harsh against her exposed skin and she shivered, pulling her cloak tighter around her.

When they passed into the courtyard, Venethiel's moss-green eyes darted over the processions that Josephine had taken such care in putting together, and she walked up the stairs to stand among her advisors and gaze over the crowd that had gathered in the courtyard before them. Venethiel Lavellan grasped her ceremonial sword and hoisted it into the air, silently commanding the others to follow suit. So many people cheered her name and the Inquisition's, and there were so many beaming and happy faces as the torch light reflected on the shining blades that were held up high by the soldiers. The mages all raised their staves and pointed them at the sky, sending hundreds of bright lights to join the stars as cries of victory were bellowed. The servants and the kitchen staff clapped and whooped, and under any other circumstance, the Inquisitor would have been overcome with joy. Soldiers hugged each other and clapped each other on the back. She smiled at them anyway, and although she tried to speak, the crowd drowned her out. She cleared her throat loudly, urging them to shush for a moment. Slowly, the noise died down, and all eyes were on her once more.

"Inquisition!" she addressed them, "Today we have defeated one of the greatest evils Thedas has ever seen. We defeated Corypheus and his dragon, even when no one believed we could!" The crowd shouted out in approval. "From this day forth, no one will be able to question the power we wield, and we will use this power for the greater good of all! Thedas shall be restored once again!" Swords and shields were banged together and there was many a "huzzah!" and a "hooray!"

Amidst the clamor and commotion that followed, Leliana quietly called her over, and Venethiel waved one last time to the crowd before she responded with utmost haste. What could possibly need her attention now?

"Inquisitor… my scouts say they have no sign of Solas. They will continue their search, but it's not likely that anything will turn up any time soon. I'm sorry…" she reported in her slight Orlesian accent, never breaking eye-contact with her.

Venethiel felt herself tear up slightly, the warmth in her eyes a stark contrast to the cold air. "He didn't even say goodbye…" She placed a hand on her forehead and partially hid her face behind her hands as she took a deep breath. Nobody needed to see her cry right now.

"The two of you were close." It wasn't as much of something to be confirmed as it was a statement. Nearly everyone knew of the fondness that had been expressed between the two of them, even if their displays of affection weren't exactly public. "I am so sorry, Inquisitor. If anything comes up, you will be the first to know. I promise."

"Thank you, Leliana," she replied as she quickly blinked back the tears.

The hooded redhead nodded and turned away to speak with Cullen, and Venethiel continued through the tall wooden doors into the great hall of Skyhold. She was greeted by a truly magnificent sight.

People from all corners of Thedas, or at least all of the corners Josephine could contact within such a short notice, gathered in the halls of Skyhold and enjoyed exquisite foods and fine drinks. Orlesian men and women arrived in their extravagant attire as they danced around in their royal silk ball gowns and perfectly tailored suits, their shining masquerade masks never leaving their faces. Ferelden nobles were mingling with the Inquisition, and you could hear their Mabari hounds barking from the stables outside. The tables were adorned with red silk tablecloths embroidered in gold thread, and it seemed as if the very food itself had been chosen just to match the vibrant colors that decorated the halls. The gilded chandeliers gave off a comforting warmth and light that only heightened their spirits even further. Venethiel addressed everyone who came her way with a polite gesture and responded to many a "Thank you," and for once she felt that her efforts were finally recognized. People were laughing and drinking and having a good time, and the atmosphere was happy and relaxed. She stopped for a second and looked around, trying to take it all in. Her heart swelled with pride as she gazed upon her companions; she would speak to them all individually later on. She would also definitely have to thank Josephine later, perhaps when her friend wasn't in such a frazzled mood. The poor woman was too busy fretting over whether or not the petite cakes were made correctly or whether or not the Empress' ambassadors had arrived on time. Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a gruff voice behind her.

"You know, Inquisitor, I was thinking about writing another book. About the Inquisition. I think everyone deserves to know who saved their sorry asses from the demons."

Venethiel smiled softly as she turned to face the crossbow-wielding Dwarf that had addressed her.

"Varric… I doubt there will be anyone in Thedas who hasn't heard of what the Inquisition has done. Not if Josephine has anything to say about it."

Varric laughed and continued, "You're probably right. But still… you sure you don't want me to put it all on paper? It might be fun to look back on it later and read what happened." She could see the pleading twinkle in his eyes. That Dwarf had a way with persuading people.

"Fine, Varric. Just… don't exaggerate everything," she replied with a wink.

"No promises, Your Inquisitorialness." He faked a bow as he laughed and turned to walk away, but then he stopped, his face turning sober. "I'll leave out the part about Chuckles if you want."

She sighed. "No… as much as I don't want to remember it, I don't want to forget it even more. Thank you, Varric."

He smiled and placed his big, Dwarfy hand on her arm. "He'll turn up, Ven. I doubt he could bear to stay away from you forever…" Venethiel looked down for a moment. "Until then, you should just enjoy the party! Drink a bit, or a lot, because you deserve it!"

She grinned slightly as she watched him walk back towards Iron Bull, no doubt to share more of his stories about his encounters with the Qunari in Kirkwall. Would Solas come back, she wondered? They had so much together, so surely something serious must have come up for him to leave her but… why? She was so preoccupied with her thoughts that one of the servers walking around had to nearly shout at her to get her attention.

"Inquisitor? Inquisitor!" Venethiel jumped suddenly at the sound of the voice in front of her, and she looked to see a young Elven woman in front of her holding a tray of drinks. "Ser Tethras said you might want a drink... I-I didn't mean to startle you."

The poor girl looked frightened by Venethiel's reaction. "Sorry… yes. I would love a drink. Thank you… um?"

"L-Laina… my name is Laina, miss." Her brown eyes were hesitant to meet those of the Inquisitor.

"Thank you, Laina. There's no need to act formally around me. We are of the same people, after all," she said, attempting to reassure the girl.

"Y-yes, my lady. It's just… It's nice to see another Elf held in such high standing! I-I admire you, Inquisitor." With that, she placed a glass on the table next to Venethiel and quickly walked off.

Venethiel looked down at the silver-gilded glass before gently picking it up with a grace only the Elves can master. She swirled the deep red liquid and stared at it thoughtfully as she smelled it; it was a heavy, fruity fragrance with just a bit of spice. Taking a sip, she savored the feeling of it passing over her tongue and down her throat, loving the warmth that coursed through her body. Fine Antivan spiced wine, and probably one of the best if Josephine was responsible for its acquisition.

The wine was slowly soothing her and calming her spirits. With each sip, the emotions raging within her quelled more and more. With each sip, the draperies appeared more and more vibrant. With each sip, that strange Orlesian noble in the corner looked more and more appealing… until he removed his mask. Maybe not. With each sip, her footsteps grew heavier and heavier. She didn't remember much, but it wasn't long before she had found herself in Solas' study, and she was drunk off of her ass. Normally she would be more rambunctious as a drunk, but as of right now she was feeling pretty… ah, how did he put it? "Grim and fatalistic?" Yeah… that's it… She took another sip of wine. He gets it… he always gets it… he… he's…

Sudden re-realization dawned over the Inquisitor. He was gone. The only man she had ever fallen in love with was now gone and beyond her reach, and no one had been able to find him or track down any sign of him. Her heart began to ache until it felt as if she would die from the pain… Venethiel's eyes welled up with tears and she choked back a sob as they fell down her rosy cheeks and onto his papers with soft splats, slowly absorbing into the parchment. She bit her lip as the tears continued to fall, and her breathing became erratic. She was quietly sobbing now. No one needed to see her cry, she told herself. Not now. She lowered her head and stray strands of her dark brown hair had fallen out of her bun and were hanging in front of her face. Nothing had ever hurt her this much before, and she had faced certain death more than once. Anger and betrayal were welling up inside her, and her eyebrows furrowed. Banging her fist on the desk, she cried out.

"Damn it!" she sobbed. "Where are you, you bastard? Why… why couldn't you just say you never cared… why couldn't you just let me think you were some stupid jerk?" She was shaking. "I…. Solas…You… You bastard!"

She stood up suddenly, the sound of the chair legs scraping against the stone floors clawing at her pointed ears. Through blurry eyes she looked down at his desk one last time and balled her hands up into fists. It wasn't until another of her tears fell and she was able to see a little clearer that she caught sight of a single note that had been left there. Gently, she picked it up and brought it closer so she could read it. Scrawled upon it in Solas' perfect handwriting read,

"Vhenan,

If you are reading this, then we have succeeded. Corypheus is dead, and I am long gone. Believe me when I say it is for the best. You are a brilliant light among all the darkness in this world, and you deserve better.

With my deepest regrets,

Solas"

Her face contorted into a pained grimace as she gripped the piece of parchment more tightly, threatening to crumple it in her delicate hands. She cried out and angrily swept everything off of his desk. A multitude of papers fluttered to the ground accompanied by the sound of stones and trinkets clattering on the hard floor. Venethiel was shaking more now, and she slowly fell back down into the chair.

"Solas… I…" she whispered to herself as she held her head between her hands. She used her thumb and traced her cheekbones where the Vallaslin once marked her face; it was as if the magic he used still lingered, tingling on her skin.

"The Veil is thin here… Can you feel it? Tingling on your skin?"

Tears streamed down her face now, and she was sure that her eye makeup was probably following suit. Crossing her arms on the table, she laid her head on them. She was content to just sit here and cry for a moment, far from the reaches of partygoers eager to hear her stories. She just needed this moment to herself. Venethiel had not realized just how much she needed this moment until now.

BANG!

The door was flung open and slammed against the wall behind it, and a very angry looking Josephine stepped into the room.

"Alright, who's in here? I hear you making all sorts of noise… I did not invite you to Skyhold just for you to start-oh. Inquisitor!" she stopped suddenly, smoothing out her hair and recomposing herself. "My apologies, I had no idea you were-"

"It's fine, Josephine," she managed to murmur quietly. She still kept her head low for fear of worrying her advisor, but Josephine had been playing the Game for far too long and knew how to read gestures and facial expressions.

Josephine looked at her with concern, and she walked over to the desk as her heels clacked against the ground. She placed her papers down on the table gently before resting a hand on Venethiel's shoulder. "Inquisitor… Venethiel… what's troubling you?" Before she could answer, Josephine noted the things that were scattered on the floor and that they were the source of the sounds she had heard just previously. "Ah… I see."

Venethiel looked up at her, her face blotchy and red. "I don't want to trouble you, Josephine. You have enough on your plate already to be worrying about me," she said with a slight slur.

Josephine playfully scoffed. "I'm not allowed to be worried about the Inquisitor, let alone one of my best friends? Especially when she's intoxicated?" She crouched down and reached up, pushing Venethiel's stray hairs out of her face. "We've all been through a lot, but no one has been through more than you. What Solas did to you was wrong, and as a diplomat I believe you should make it very clear that you want nothing to do with him."

The Inquisitor shuddered as the tears began to start up again at the suggestion. "But he wasn't wrong, Josephine. He had his reasons… he always has," she replied woefully with a wave of her hand.

"Bullshit."

Venethiel was taken aback by her friend's uncharacteristically bold language. "S-Sorry?"

"I said it's bullshit, Inquisitor. I don't agree with what he did to you, whether he had his reasons or not. Nevertheless... " she paused for a moment, thinking hard. "I wouldn't deny you the opportunity to see him again, if it were to present itself. I know what he meant to you, and you're certainly not going to be a symbol to the people if you're like this all the time. Not a good one, anyway," Josephine jested.

She sighed in response. She knew that her friend was right, and that she needed to do something about Solas' disappearance or pull herself together and forget about him.

"Although I don't have agents like Leliana, I certainly have contacts. Surely someone will have seen or heard of him," she said in an attempt to comfort her.

"I… I think I just need to go to bed for now, Josephine." Venethiel stood up and wiped the tears from her face with her sleeve. "I'm thoroughly exhausted after today."

Josephine nodded. "As you wish, Inquisitor. I will inform the guests of your departure."

As Venethiel started to walk, she stumbled. She had forgotten how drunk she was, and it took a great deal of effort to keep herself from falling. Josephine quickly rushed beside her to steady her, and Venethiel heard her friend chuckle. "Or I could escort you to your chambers first. I don't think it would be smart for you to venture up those stairs alone."

The walk up the stairs seemed to take forever, and Venethiel's conscious was slipping by the minute. It was almost as if something unseen was pulling her, begging her just to go to sleep already, but she didn't want to fall asleep while Josephine guided her up the wooden steps. As soon as they reached the door to her room, Josephine smiled and said goodnight, leaving Venethiel alone. She opened the door and headed, clumsily, to her plush and inviting bed, almost immediately falling into a deep slumber.

He shook with anger. How dare the world force her to do this? Flemeth… Mythal's body… was cold as stone in his hands. Her spirit was now a part of him. He glared up at the sky with his glowing, seemingly smoking eyes. He could feel her vengeance coursing through his blood as if it were his own. It was his duty to make the world see what time forgot. It was time to bring them back.

The spirits danced around him, recreating this memory. They shined vibrantly in all sorts of glowing colors, and for once he felt the urge to shake them away. Let him have this moment alone… Even if her spirit was with him, he had lost one of his dearest friends in physical form, and he was alone.

That's what he was, he realized. He was so alone in this world, and it frightened him, but he knew this was how it had to be. He let the image of the stone-cold body slowly fade away as he tried to focus on something, anything else.

"I must find a way… I must use this power… the Elven Gods must be free. I must fix my mistake."

Solas remained there, crouched down, as he grasped a handful of grass in his fist. He stared up at the broken and cracked Eluvian and frowned, the worry plain upon his face as his reflection stared back at him. He sighed.

Solas sensed an odd presence and quickly stood, his back towards whatever it was that was spying on him. "I know you are out there. You do not need to hide. Please, show yourself." His voice was even-toned; he did not wish to frighten the presence. However, as soon as he spoke, the presence seemed to vanish. He turned around curiously, and his eyes narrowed.

"Wh-what?" Venethiel gasped as she awoke suddenly and sat straight up in her bed. Her eyes were open wide and her mouth was left agape after what she just saw in her dream. Solas is… Fen'harel? She brought her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, shuddering at the thought. She had seen everything from Flemeth addressing him to the revelation that it was just him remembering it in the Fade. Surely it was just some crazy dream that her mind had conjured thanks to an unhealthy mixture of alcohol and heartbreak. Just some crazy, realistic dream…

The door to her room barged open and Venethiel pulled the covers up in an attempt to cover herself. "Inquisitor!" someone cried out as they came rushing within view. Ah, Venethiel thought, a servant that was no doubt posted to keep a close eye on her by Josephine. "Are you alright, Inquisitor!?"

Realizing she hadn't answered initially, Venethiel hurriedly replied, "I'm fine! I'm sorry to have disturbed you. It was simply a bad dream, nothing more."

The servant bowed in response and exited the room, leaving Venethiel to her thoughts. She let the covers fall as she pulled her legs in tighter. It was an odd thought… The Dalish always viewed the Dread Wolf as the trickster and the reason that they no longer had the original Elven Gods, and they always used him as a frightening symbol to scare away evil spirits. He was not viewed favorably, yet her dream suggested that she had fallen in love with the Wolf himself. Venethiel shook her head; it must have just been her mind or the spirits in the Fade translating the betrayal she felt into an image.

Taking in a deep breath, she sighed. By the looks of the sky outside her window, it was well into the night, and everyone had probably already retired to their chambers. She stretched her legs out and pulled the covers back over herself, trying to fight away the chill she was feeling. Resting her head on the pillow, she slowly closed her eyes and tried to fall back asleep.

It had been weeks since they had defeated Corypheus, and Venethiel was beginning to get into the routine of being sought after frequently by peasants and nobles alike. Josephine and Leliana were right when they told her that people hoped some sort of heroism would rub off onto them from her, and she was amused by the idea. Nevertheless, she enjoyed helping those in need and forcing judgement on those who deserved it. Perhaps one person should not be capable of wielding so much power, but the majority of the population as well as her companions seemed to agree with her decisions.

Today she judged yet another of the Venatori cultists that they had captured after the fall of the "Elder One." She sat gracefully in her throne, and it was a magnificent sight to behold. She sat in the very maw of a dragon's skull; it was the perfect image of irony and of laughing in the face of danger. The red velvet seat was surrounded by the teeth of the glorious beast, and she was careful not to rest her arms too heavily on the long incisors that jutted out of the jaw as mock arm rests. The back of her throne stood tall behind her and made her an imposing figure as she crossed her legs impatiently.

Josephine cleared her throat and began, "Inquisitor, this man is yet another of the Venatori Leliana's spies found while investigating the Still Ruins. He is charged with crimes of murder, assault, and as I'm sure you've guessed, many other things."

The cultist kept his head low and his face was obscured by his hood. His shackles jangled around with a harsh noise as he spat on the ground, refusing to say anything. The two guards on either side of him had annoyed looks on their faces and one even rolled his eyes; they had obviously tired of his antics long before they brought him in here.

Venethiel leaned forward and propped her head on the back of her hand, eyeing him curiously. "You have nothing to say in your defense, cultist?" she said with a slight wave of her other hand.

His beady eyes glared up at her from under his hood. "If I did, would it make any difference, your 'worship'?" he retorted, practically spitting out the last part.

She sighed. "And here I thought maybe you would strike up a friendly conversation and I would invite you to dinner!" she sarcastically commented. Shaking her head, she closed her eyes for a brief moment. "Josephine… what are my options?"

The Antivan woman looked down at her papers and flipped through them with a flick of her finger. "Many are asking for a public execution, but there are those who would rather he… 'rot away in jail', as they put it. As usual, the choice is yours, and we are open to suggestions."

"Death would be a gift! Allow me to join my master in the Fade… this world has no place for me."

Venethiel raised an eyebrow. "You know, this isn't the first time a Venatori has requested a beheading. So far, it hasn't come back to haunt me." She saw the brief look of fear that flashed over his eyes, and she smirked. No man as weak as this one could look death in the eye without trying to run away. The Venatori were all talk anymore, she had learned. "I hereby sentence you to death, which will occur tomorrow morning. I hope you have time to reconcile with the Gods before they take you."

The cultist began to grow frantic as he tried, to no avail, to maintain his composure. "D-Death is a welcome gift! I share no gods with you, you knife-eared filth!" He was pulling at his shackles as the guards moved to drag him away, muttering nonsense about the Elder One and red lyrium.

A fireball flew through the court and struck at the cultist's feet, causing him to let out a high pitched squeal and scramble away from the burning flames. The crowd that had gathered for the hearing gasped and backed away as well, frightened. Venethiel didn't flinch, but she looked over at where Dorian was standing with an unapologetic grin on his face. She made eye contact and shook her head, but she couldn't hide her own smile. With a tilt of her head, Dorian got the hint and extinguished the fire he had created.

"C-Control your mage, knife-ear!" the prisoner cried out as the guards regained their composure as well and continued to drag him out. He screamed and yelled the entire time and now his ramblings contained rantings about "stupid rogue mages and their stupid fire." When he was finally out of the room, everyone sighed in relief and turned to leave as well.

"Thank goodness you got him out of here; he was giving me a dreadful headache," Dorian complained. As the crowd dispersed and Venethiel stepped down from the throne, Dorian waltzed over to her and Josephine. Josephine looked slightly irritated at him.

Josephine smoothed out her golden dress and looked at him harshly. "That's the third runner that we've had to replace this week, and I'll be up all night writing apology letters to the nobles that attended today. Can't you control yourself, Dorian?"

"It's not my fault that these stuck-up cultists respond so humorously to having a little fire thrown their way," Dorian replied with mock innocence. "How can you expect me not to throw a fireball or two?"

Venethiel laughed. "I'm not going to lie, Josephine. It is funny watching them scream like that." Josephine shook her head in response, and Venethiel cleared her throat and said in a jokingly serious voice, "But Dorian, you couldn't possibly consider throwing more than one fireball knowing how Josie gets," she said with a wink. Dorian giggled like a little girl.

Josephine huffed and threw her arms up in defeat. "I swear, what am I going to do with the two of you?" Her accent was coming out thick in her frustration.

Dorian's perfectly curled mustache twitched as he grinned. "Josie, you know I didn't mean anyone else any harm. He just needed to learn that you can't talk to the Inquisitor like that and not expect any repercussions!" He turned to Venethiel and quickly added, "You're not filth, sweetheart. He's just jealous."

She certainly didn't want to, but Josephine cracked a smile. "Okay… it was a little humorous watching him squirm about. I don't want to admit it, but I got a strange satisfaction out of it."

Dorian playfully elbowed the advisor in the side. "Oh come on, Josie! You know it was funnier than tha-"

"But you," she poked Dorian in the chest with a finger, "are still in trouble!"

Dorian glanced over at Venethiel with a hopeful, worried expression, but she shook her head and laughed. "You got yourself into this one, Dorian."

"But Ven…!" he whined. Josephine shrugged her shoulders and she gave up, walking towards her office as her heels clacked against the floor. He covered one side of his mouth so Josephine wouldn't be able to hear and whispered, "You don't know what her punishments are like!"

"I hear you, Dorian!" Josephine called over her shoulder. "Keep pushing it, and you'll be the one writing all of those apology letters while I watch you!"

"Yeah she'd like that, wouldn't she?" he whispered to the Inquisitor. Venethiel gasped and looked at Dorian incredulously, trying not to laugh as she smacked him on the arm. "Ow!"

"Dorian!" She was unable to wipe the grin plastered on her face and hoped Josephine hadn't noticed the giggling fit her Tevinter friend was having next to her. "I swear, if you weren't gay…"

He raised an eyebrow. "What? I'd plough her into the Deep Roads?" he laughed.

"God, Dorian, no! I'd just really be questioning whether or not you were actually hitting on her," Venethiel replied with another smack to the arm. "You're the one who went there with it!"

"Ow! Oh come on, Ven, I was just-" another smack "-ow! You're worse than a sibling!"

"It's not my fault these stuck-up Tevinter mages respond so humorously to having a few smacks sent their way," she replied with a devilish grin.

Dorian playfully pushed her away, faking a look of hurt. "I'm offended, my dear Inquisitor! I'm only half as stuck-up as those other Tevinter mages you've been talking to. Cory's certainly no one to compare the rest of Tevinter to."

The two of them looked at each other with mock seriousness for a moment, eyebrows furrowing, but they both burst into laughter seconds later until tears were forming in Venethiel's eyes. Their giggling filled the halls and the two of them were nearly doubled over, not even sure what they were laughing at by this point. All they knew is that every time they looked at each other they just started laughing all over again, and it seemed as if they would never stop until Josephine stormed out of her office again holding back her own laughter.

"W-Would the two of you hush? You're making it hard to concentrate!" she managed to chide between giggling. She ran back into her office before she too burst into laughter, and left the two of them to finally start calming down.

Venethiel grinned widely at her mage friend. "Thank you, Dorian. I needed that."

He lifted his hands in the air. "Whatever would you do without me?"

"I'm sure I can think of something," she replied.

He chuckled. "Try all you want, but I doubt you will." He reached down and ruffled her hair, receiving a displeased grunt as she tried to fix it.

Josephine popped her head out the door again. "Dorian, I will drag you in here if I have to! I wasn't kidding about the apology letters."

"Into the Deep Roads it is, then!" Dorian whispered to the Inquisitor as he walked away, leaving her giggling madly.

"Do I want to know?" Josephine inquired.

Venethiel quickly shook her head and hid her face behind her hand as she continued to laugh. It was days like this that allowed her to feel normal again and forget the emotions raging through her. Maybe this was what she needed. Maybe she really did need to forget about Solas, at least for a time, and focus on the Inquisition and what was important. That's what he would have wanted her to do, right? Maybe she should listen to him for once.