"Across and then over."
"But I'm holding two already."
"You have it, there, see? Just take it with your finger…There…"
"When I let go, won't it all fall apart?"
A laugh. "Yes! So don't let go."
Solas couldn't help his smile. The small anxiety that emerged in the spirit's face could not eclipse the ardor already in its expression. Cole regarded the Inquisitor with such rapt attention as he attempted to braid the short length of hair in his hands that a bit of warmth spread through this own chest. A quiet moment here in reality between one of the people and a spirit.
Such a rare and exquisite sight.
Inquisitor Lavellan held a matching braid in her fingers, the little weave neat and tidy, while Cole's had hair sticking out and knots bulging. Both lengths matched the lopsided cut locks on the back of their heads.
A Lover's Knot.
They had found one in the rubble of a small and abounded temple, in the forgotten and uninhabited areas of the Exalted Plains. It was a small Dalish treasure that had immediately set the boy off on a tangent of outspoken emotions of homesickness and nostalgia. Ellana had seemed embarrassed, but willing to explain the trinket, already ousted by Cole.
"It's a Lover's Knot. Or half of one." A singed braided length of hair, coiled into a Knot and ended in a small charm. "A keepsake for Lovers—you're supposed to make it with your own hair and theirs, and keep a bit of them with you."
"Your own hair?" Cassandra had asked a bit dubiously.
"Or plant roots, Hart or Halla hair... And it's not just for lovers, but friends and family too."
Cole was immediately curious. And Solas suspected his excitement was a mere reflection of the Inquisitor's. Her fondness for the object must have spurred the boy into his desire to make one.
So they sat, on the bank of the river leading to a small waterfall, Lavellan quietly teaching Cole to braid with bits of both of their hair cut straight off with his dagger.
Solas watched them from a short distance as he slowly re-wrapped his staff with leathers, inspecting it and his hand for the source of irritated calluses.
They seemed to have been fighting all day. The Plains were dire and dead. Burned and tainted with old battles and new ones. Demons and soldiers had been their ambient noise for hours. They were all tired, so the short and calming stop was not unexpected or opposed.
"Can I keep yours?" Cole asked quietly, as he struggled to finish his own. "Like you said? Like we are supposed to?"
"Of course, but only if I can have yours too."
Cole hesitated, "I'm sorry… mine is not… pretty like the ones you remember."
Ellana laughed, leaning forward to help his fingers finish the end of the hairs. "It's perfect." She twisted the hair on itself, expertly knotting the ends before pushing the messy braided circle over her thin fingers, wriggling her palm and knuckles until the braid slipped past to rest on her wrist.
"Here." She took Cole's hand gently, and her own neat braid, wrapping it about his wrist and tying it off.
"Thank you." Cole spoke at the hair made bracelet, patting it quietly.
"Now we have something to remember each other by."
The boy's head snapped up at that, but Ellana had already stood from the bank. Her hands raised above her head, the length of her small frame stretching toward the sky to awaken her muscles.
Solas let his eyes trace down the hidden lines of her arms, sides, and down her legs. His hand kept the steady and swift motion of wrapping his staff even as his eyes bored into the Inquisitor's frame, memorizing the movement of her. Small and lithe, wily and limber, she moved too much for a mage, always too close to the combat. He had watched her use the fade to whisk her across the battlefield to use the end of her staff to slice into an enemy only to whisk back out again.
More than once she had fade stepped to the safety of his side where he could raise barriers to protect after angering a red Templar or mercenary bandit. He had chided her for it more than once, receiving guilty wide eye looks and embarrassed smiles each time.
He wouldn't admit that watching her move was a pleasure. That following the curve of her neck and graceful spine as she twisted into dodges or thrust spells was an absolutely gratifying experience.
He admired her; admired the suddenness of her, the curiosity in her questions and the impulsive instincts that drove her decisions.
He also admired the hesitation of her parting lips when she came to him for advice. Or the crease of her eyes when she looked up at him to share a secret smile over some of his wit. He admired the curve of her cheek and the soft look her hair. Ah, her hair. He would not mind discovering the texture and feel of it in between his fingers, or twisted about his knuckles-
"Solas would like a Lover's Knot too." Cole's voice broke the air, snapping his mind to the present.
Ellana twisted to consider him and suddenly he was caught staring, their eyes meeting both with surprise. She glanced at Cole, the boy's face passive and watching as if he had not said a word. Solas tried to suppress the heat that threatened to burn his neck and ears.
"Oh? Is that true hahren?"
Hahren.
It wasn't the first time she had called him that. And just like each time before, heat slithered in his stomach at the sound of it from her lips. He looked down at his staff and forced a chuckle from himself.
"No da'len, I am fine." He secretly glanced at Cole, willing the spirit to be satisfied with his forced content, before looking up at her teasingly. "Besides, what hair would I have to give?"
She smiled softly at him, though her expression was still questioning and he turned back to his staff.
"I'm sure I have enough for both of us, or we could use some twine."
The lilt and inflection of her voice soothed his soul, but he still shook his head. "It isn't necessary. Thank you."
She made a humming noise of wonder, before seemingly dropping the issue, her gentle form passing him from where he sat to approach Cassandra. She and the Seeker dropped into conversation about their ever increasing annoyance with the Freemen of the Dales, their talk more serious than discussing technique for braiding.
Cole sought him out at Lavellan's absence, crossing the dirt to come to a kneel before him. His eyes looked nervously up at him through his hair and hat before flickering to the Inquisitor.
Solas raised his brows at him, already knowing what was to come. "Well go on then." He encouraged, before adding,"Quietly."
"Temptation to touch is telling me to be tame yet—silken, soft… such sweet surrender too only see and not have isn't…satisfying." Cole rushed out beneath his breath almost as fast as he was able. His hands rose, fingers twisting and caressing the braid of hair there. "But, you do want to hold her hair in your hands. You could if she makes you one."
"Asking for something is not the same as being given it freely." He hushed back. "And if you are trying to understand human emotions you will need to dig deeper than the surface. The why and why not's are as important as the wants."
The boy's face turned downward, wriggling his finger into the knots of the braid on his wrist. "I'm sorry, Solas." His tentative voice came muffled from beneath his hat as he hid his face. "You… didn't want anyone to know, did you?"
The old elf sighed, hands abandoning his staff to tilt the large brim backward and force the boy to look up at him. "No, I did not. But it is alright so long as you are learning." He gave the spirit a smile, one that was mirrored, if a bit shyly.
"I think I am. But… it's confusing at times. When to speak and when not too." Cole's brows furrowed. "Sometimes it seems I can help if I speak and they do not, because they are scared. Afraid of how others might think of them."
Solas gave a subtle nod before looking over at the Inquisitor. He watched her delicate hands twist with emphasize in her conversation. "Do I seem scared Cole?"
The boy went silent and Solas let the spirit indulge in his mind.
"N…No. You aren't. You are… disappointed."
"In what?"
Cole's face cringed at the complicated question and a large awkward hand coming up to rub at his face. "I… don't know—yourself?" When Solas only hummed deeply Cole shifted on his knees. Expression turning imploring, he said, "But—you don't have to be."
He laughed at that, a low, short and sad laugh. "Oh what a good and persistent spirit you are Cole. I would hope you never stop being so determined in your empathy to help those around you."
Solas stood then, righting his staff and looking down at him. "But for now, there are many other matters much greater than you or I. Now come along."
Cole looked at the ground one last time before looking up blankly and nodding, standing from the dusty ground. His large boyish hands pat gently at his legs and Solas gave a fond smile before turning back towards the others.
"Inquisitor." He called, and for a moment he allowed himself the pleasure at seeing her turn towards him, her eyes seeking him out with that wide and deep curiosity. She smiled at him again, as if the simple act of seeing to his attention was a pleasure.
She was an exquisite beauty.
"Solas?"
"We should press on if you wish to reach Fort Revasan by nightfall."
She left Cassandra's side to come closer to him, and he had to lower his neck to look down at her when she stopped just before him.
"Would it be alright if we headed towards the Dalish camp instead?"
"West?" He questioned.
She nodded and a hand rose to grasp her own neck, pressing the skin there insistently. A nervous habit of hers he had learned quickly to adore.
"I think – and Cassandra does as well, that they might be helpful…" She trailed, eyes flickering to the side almost nervously and Solas had to wonder where this sudden anxiousness was spilling from. He frowned at her avoidance of his gaze. Why ask him such a thing? What permission would she need from him, of all people, to change course? If she wished to see the Dalish—ah.
The Dalish.
He couldn't help the tug at the corners of his lips. But he made sure to school his features into neutrality. Was her consideration unlimited? She thought of his own reservations before his needs. Kind but also excessive, while he did not favor the Dalish, he did not think them a waste of time.
"Well then lethallan, lead the way."
She turned her gaze back on him, this time with a wider and genuine smile. He nodded lightly, his eyes drinking the sight of her approval and gratification.
He would agree to see hundreds of Dalish camps should she always react so strikingly.
The outskirts of The Dirth were perhaps once beautiful and lush lands of forest with tall growths of green and brambles full of fauna and life. They would have been bursting with bird song and the smell of earth. The smell of soil thick with minerals and sunlight.
But all that must have been burned.
The Exalted Plains, now, was nothing but scorched remnants of what once might have been. The terrain was leveled with the wear of being walked on, being used and worn. The trees were naked and alone, the number of them not enough to call a forest. The air was quiet and the smell was of dry wood and baked dead grass.
The four of them took their pace a little more leisurely than before. The sparse forest was quiet. The demons and bandits behind them nothing but a trail of silent bodies now. And the Inquisitor insisted on taking the path less taken, climbing down the waterfall to travel through the narrow valleys closer to the Path of Fire. This way, they could avoid any more Freemen or demons.
Cassandra fell in step with him.
They were a bit of way from where Cole and Lavellan walked ahead, the boy eager to listen to Dalish tall tales. She was one of the few who would indulge the spirit on his more… whimsical and trivial questions; she having many of her own.
"Do you worry about it Solas?"
The thick Nevarran accent was hard to ignore and he turned to look at the Seeker as she watched the two before them. "The spirit I mean." She clarified.
"Cole?" He confirmed lightly, turning with her to watch them both. Cole's hat obscured his face just as Lavellan's hair obscured hers, but their frames told emotions of lazy content. "No. He has given me no reason to worry."
He tried to seriously consider the question as she asked it, but could already feel a bit of disappointment bubble up at the Seeker for being so wary.
"He is not a spirit of malcontent."
A hefty sigh. "That is not what I meant." She defended and he waited for her to continue. "He seems… very young."
At this he smiled. What a surprising thing for her to say. And almost… endearing.
"Our Inquisitor insists on his accompaniment despite his age. It seems…reckless."
"Are you worried about his raising, Seeker?" He very nearly accused, failing to keep the utter amusement at the idea out of his voice.
"Of course not—I only mean to say—" She tried, her expression scrunching up in an offended (and embarrassed) manner. But despite her protest, her words sounded an awful lot like concern. "He seems impressionable. And someone at his age could be hurt in battle—"
"He is not like you or I Seeker. And while he appears to us as a young boy might—"
"I know it's different." She cut off, turning to glance at him this time. "Perhaps I have over thought this—please dismiss the matter."
Solas gave her flustered face a knowing smile, but said nothing.
They walked for a length in silence with nothing of note happening besides some of Ellana's light laughter ahead of them and a soft exclamation from Cole. The two bumped shoulders and Ellana pointed somewhere in rocks above them at some birds.
The valley grew narrower and Cassandra began speaking to him again.
"He makes wonder… I have fought many demons in my life without thought."
Solas turned to look over at her. Cassandra's expression one of confusion and… pain.
"I admit, I have never thought of their circumstances as I have, well, humans I have struck down. Often times I wonder at the lives of my enemies. Even these… Freemen of the Dales. But demons?"
"I'm surprised at you Cassandra." He spoke, and smiled at her when she looked over at him questioning. "To even reach that consideration of spirits… it is true, yes, many of them are demons because it is against their will and it is kind of you to acknowledge that now."
Cassandra's expression turned a bit somber so Solas continued. "However, demons are often beyond anyone's saving. Even the best spirits are lost to our sympathy when they reach that terrible nature."
They were quiet once more and after some time Cassandra spoke.
"Thank you, Solas."
"No—thank you, Cassandra." He corrected with a smile. "It is you who were so open minded in—"
"Stop! Cole!"
Solas and the Seeker's gazes shot forward to the shout ahead of them, Lavellan rushing at the boy and shoving him backward from the path. Cole fell to the ground and Lavellan stumbled. "Careful it's a—!"
A loud metallic clang snapped through the rocky walls of the valley and the Inquisitor went shock still, standing like a stone over Cole.
And then the deafening silence was broken by screaming.
Cole was wailing loudly, his face scrunched up as he screamed his face red. "AHHH! IT HURTS! IT HURTS!"
The crying shot through their bodies and they lunged for the two. Cassandra went for Cole first, grasping at the boy with her face a mess of confusion and horror. "Cole! What is wrong!? What happened!?"
But Solas caught the look on the Inquisitor's face as he neared—her eyes unseeing, glassy and the blood draining from her face. He looked her over instantly and his eyes caught it, the metal snare hidden in the grass clamping onto her right leg.
Blood dotted her boots and the blades of grass
"SOLAS! HELP PLEASE IT HURTS!" Cole screamed.
"Cassandra!" He called, falling to his knees, his hands instantly acting as adrenaline shot through his body. A hunting trap—her leg, her skin, her bones, he needed to act fast. "Ellana!"
The metal bands had collapsed on her delicate leg, ripped straight through the leather of her boot to pierce the tender flesh and break the bone it had desperately sought. He knew it to be broken; he could feel it once his magic dashed through the air to invade her body.
He could feel the blood in her begging to pour out and he trapped it there. Her mana rushed around his, almost like panicked hands darting around his own to try and heal the wound. Her magic was pouring out of her and he looked up to see her breathing had turned ragged where she stood, seeing nothing and panting harshly.
"Ellana, stop—stop your magic. You need to focus and stop trying to heal yourself or you will expend your energy and fall unconscious-" he tried.
"IT HURTS! I CAN'T—" Cole responded.
And then someone was pushing past him, strong hands batting his away to grasp the metal. "Move, Solas." Cassandra commanded coolly.
He did so, stepping away for the Seeker to kneel before the trap. He immediately rose to grasp Ellana, pulling at her shoulders to get her to lie down. She went slowly, body not reacting and eyes unseeing. He situated her small frame into his lap, hands keeping her shoulders steady. "S-Solas."
"Shhh, it's alright, we will get you out of it." He reassured, watching as Cassandra tilted the snare as they laid her down in the grass. "Just stay with us. Do not shut your eyes da'len."
Cole's screaming had quieted down to whimpers, his form still shivering in fear on the ground behind them.
"The damn thing is rusted—old." Cassandra called, her brow furrowed in frustration as her strong arms struggled with the release triggers on the sides of the snare. "It will not move."
"Can you break it?"
Cassandra yanked the metal and a rip tore across Ellana's leather boots, exposing the holes in her leg. "If I hit it hard enough it may just spring open—but getting it open will also widen the wound. She will bleed fast."
"No. I will make sure she doesn't."
Cassandra looked up at him and gave a trusted nod. Her hands grasped the large broadsword on her back, unsheathing it deftly and bringing it forward. She looked up at him again. "Ready?"
He nodded, and the Seeker raised the heavy sword's hilt upward, aiming for the rusted release latch. It was brought down with a loud clang on the trap and this time the yell of wretched pain came from Ellana's lips as the metal vibrated through her leg.
Solas held her fast, and narrowed his eyes, ignoring her pain to watch Cassandra beat the metal with the hilt of her blade. Once, twice-
A loud final crack and the metal sprang open. The rusted iron jaws relinquished their prey and Cassandra sent the vile thing clattering against the rocks.
Solas thrust a hand out, tendrils of warm magic and light wrapping themselves around her leg. True to his word, she didn't bleed. But the wound was deep. "It's broken – and the muscle is torn. We need it wrapped immediately."
Cassandra grabbed the Inquisitor's leg, quickly yanking off a leather boot. She seemed to search the grass around them before turning to the quiet whimpering spirit behind them. "Cole, give me your—"
His hand ripped one of his daggers from his back, pulling it out and thrusting its long scabbard out to the Seeker.
"Thank you." She grasped the thick sheath and pressed it against Ellana's leg. A pause to rip some fabric, and Cassandra was quickly wrapping her leg against the makeshift splint.
"I-I'm alright. Please I can—"
"No." Solas quieted immediately, looking down to see her wide glassy eyes blinking up at him. "Hush and be still."
"We must head back to the Inquisition forces immediately." Cassandra spoke, voice steady as she worked. "We have no poultice, no supplies for this sort of injury."
"I can heal it for as long as I am able – but I will not be able to stop it from bleeding for that long. Fort Revesan is too far."
Cassandra grunted, both of them quiet for ideas.
"Really—I'm... I'm alright. I'm sorry I was just... shocked—the pain—" Ellana tried, her pale face stuck with stray hairs from the sweat on her brow. "But give me a moment. I-I will walk—or heal!"
"Absolutely not." Cassandra admonished. "You will not be able to walk on this even if we had all the poultice and magic in the world. Not for days."
"The Dalish camp." Solas suddenly chimed. "They are much closer than our forces and will surely have something to help."
"Perhaps they will let us use one of their aravels as well."
The two of them seemed to agree silently and nodded at each other at the plan.
"Good, we need to hurry there now." Cassandra stated, tying off the tight bindings on the leg. She stood and unbuckled the shield and sheath from her back. "Cole, take these, I will need to carry the Inquisitor."
"I c-can stand—"
"No." Cassandra snapped as Cole took the gear tentatively. The Seeker returned to kneel before Ellana, presenting her back to her. "No arguments."
Ellana seemed too tired and too much in pain to argue past that, though her expression still cringed with the idea. "Alright…I'm sorry."
Solas helped hoist her on the Seeker's back, her thin legs slid between Cassandra's arms, and her arms perched themselves on her shoulders.
Solas put his efforts and his magic. He couldn't stitch the flesh together without first fixing the bone, and he didn't dare try that without poultice to slow the blood as he worked.
So as the Seeker stood tall, hoisting the petite woman on her back, he kept close behind, magic flowing to keep her blood inside her.
"Come on Cole, we will need to go quickly." Cassandra called. She turned, and frowned.
Cole had pulled the Seeker's shield and sword onto his own back, but had gone and retrieved the corroded trap, holding its menacing jaws delicately in his hands. Its rust was red with blood.
"I didn't want it to hurt anyone else!"
Cassandra sighed and Ellana smiled weakly from her shoulder.
"Come on."
A/N: I played with the origin of Lover's Knots. Please forgive me.