A/N: You guys ready for some raging Rosa? Oh, and of course, some terrific Tal!

Elven Used (All praise and thanks to FenxShiral):

Aneth ara: The familiar, friendly greeting Dalish use on each other.

Asamalin/Isamalin: Sister/Brother

Lenalin: Male parent. Rosa and Tal use it like "sperm donor" when they're feeling a bit resentful to their father, Felassan.

Falon: friend. Not used for acquaintances, but true friends.

Din'anshiral: a journey of death

Three

Elgar'nan's Flaming Asshole

"Revas!" a familiar, youthful male voice called from off to Solas' left. He raised his head, turning to look at the short stairs leading up to the cluster of cabins and saw Tal approaching, holding a bottle of wine.

Solas smiled with real warmth. "I see they let you out of your cell, falon," he commented. "These shemlen are more foolish than I thought."

Tal snorted and then laughed outright as he trotted up the last stairs and moved to stand beside Solas's cabin. Fumbling with the cork in the bottle, Tal cursed under his breath until it popped out with a satisfying noise. Staring at the cork with a wrinkle in his nose, Tal shrugged and tossed it aside into the snow. "Not going to need that again."

"You drink almost as much as Master Tethras," Solas admonished.

Tal was already taking his first generous swig. He lowered it with a satisfied ahhhh and grinned. "I'm just as entitled to my alcohol as Varric is at this point." He laid a hand over his chest. "Did you hear? My sister is the fucking Herald of fucking Andraste." He broke off, laughing again. "My sister. Rosa. The woman who'd rather be beaten than sing the Chant."

Solas' smile had shrunken significantly. "I am aware." Scanning the cabins around him and relaxing as he saw they were empty, Solas frowned. "You should be a little more discreet in your criticism of the humans."

"But it's so funny," Tal protested after another long swallow. He cocked his head then, staring down at where Solas sat in the dirt and snow, his back to the cabin Cassandra had provided him. "Why are you sitting down there?"

"I was meditating," Solas replied coolly. "Before a certain alcohol-loving Dalish man interrupted me, of course."

"Just tell me where that Dalish bastard, whoever he is, ran off to and I will end him," Tal said, snickering. He took another drink and then, as the clapping noise of boots on the stairs came again, he turned to look back the way he had come, brow furrowing.

Solas followed his gaze and saw another young elven man, though this one was several years older than Tal. The man moved a bit stiffly, as if tense or angry. He was lean even in the green mercenary gear he still wore that added artificial bulk to his shoulders. He had pale blond hair and eyes that were brown-green.

Tal faced Solas again where the approaching elf couldn't see and rolled his eyes before taking another quick drink and pivoting to include the other man, stretching one hand out to begin introductions. "Mahanon," he addressed the newcomer, who wore a less-than-friendly expression. "Good to see you."

The blond elf stared at Solas with open hostility. "Is this him?" he asked, clearly speaking to Tal.

Solas arched one brow, both amused and irritated.

Tal heaved a longsuffering sigh and, using the wine bottle, he indicated Solas. "I know you wanted to meet Revas and here he is. So…" He shrugged and moved the bottle back and forth between them as he said, "Revas, this is Mahanon. Mahanon, Revas."

"A pleasure," Solas said, plastering a feigned but polite smile over his lips.

"Stay away from Rosa," Mahanon shot back, glaring as though Solas' cordiality had insulted him.

Silence reigned after Mahanon's comment. Solas stared at Mahanon, taken aback, then switched to examining Tal for clues. Meeting Solas' gaze, Tal rolled his eyes again and brought his wine bottle to his lips for still another drink. The wine sloshed and tinkled inside musically.

Returning his gaze to the other elf, Solas watched Mahanon's breath fog out around his lips, coming just a touch too fast, as if he expected a confrontation. Slowly, Solas shook his head. "Pardon me," he said with a dip of his chin. "I'm not sure I—"

"You heard me," Mahanon spat. "Stay away from Rosa. I know you two were involved before she joined my clan."

"Stop being an ass," Tal scolded the other man. "Or Rosa will kick your ass when she wakes up."

Mahanon's glowering look transferred to Tal. "If you really cared for your sister, you'd be warning this flat-ear away too."

Tal laughed, a note of mockery in the sound. "I do care for Rosa. That's why I don't go around trying to make her decisions for her."

Losing his patience, Solas said, "I do not know what you believe happened between Rosa and I in the past, but I can assure you that—"

Mahanon interrupted him with a harsh hissing sound. "Unless that sentence ends with you saying you're going to stay away from her, I don't care."

Solas' jaw clenched as his blood boiled, though he repressed it and merely glared when what he wanted to do was run Mahanon through with his staff. Keeping his voice even and calm, though several notes too deep from his usual friendly tone, he said, "I can assure you that Rosa and I had a strictly professional and platonic relationship while we both inhabited the Circle." He didn't dare make eye contact with Tal, who he knew could easily call him on that lie.

"Nugshit," Mahanon snarled, shaking his head and slashing his hand sideways through the air. "I know the truth and I know you hurt her. Broke her heart."

How much of the truth? Solas wondered before he could stop himself, feeling the jaws of fear, icy and harsh, clutch at his throat. But he knew that Rosa hadn't betrayed him even to her brother. Why would she do it with this man?

…How was she involved with this man?

Solas tabled the annoying, weak part of himself that had asked that question and cared about the answer. Deeply. He had never been given to jealousy, but the strong emotions he'd developed for Rosa while they lived in the Circle were somewhat new to him and letting go had been difficult. In fact, he knew he hadn't entirely let go. That was why he'd wondered about Mahanon and found himself despising the other man on multiple levels. Letting go properly would likely be harder still with her in the same small town as he now. But if she had chosen a new partner for her new life and new clan, Solas resolved not to interfere and to be happy for her…even if he agreed with Tal that Mahanon was an ass.

"Whatever you believe you know," Solas said, quiet and cold. "I do not believe it polite or appropriate to discuss." Unable to keep himself from digging at the other man, Solas added, "I wonder if your time might be better spent attending Rosa instead of attempting to intimidate me?"

"You watch yourself, flat-ear," Mahanon snarled, eyes narrowed and scathing. Turning on his heel, he strode toward the stairs, heading down them with a heavy tread that made his mercenary armor clank and rustle.

Tal scoffed, still nursing his wine bottle, now nearly three-fourths empty. "Can you believe him? What an insufferable prick." Tal curled his lip with disgust, as if the wine had insulted him. "What he did to you just now he was doing the entire trip from the Free Marches and from the moment we joined the Valo-Kas. Warning away everyone with a cock, like Rosa is some bit of venison or wine and can't speak for herself."

"It is unsettling behavior," Solas agreed, though his voice was reluctant and he frowned. Deciding to probe covertly for information, he added, "But it is not my place to pass judgment on Rosa's husband."

Tal snorted. "He's not her husband. He just wants to be. Their Keeper wants them to make little mage babies for the clan because the little girl they think will be Second isn't very talented and it's been a long time since a gifted child was born. Mahanon is strong enough to light a fire, but not much else." He groaned, sloshing the wine about inside the bottle as he said, "The Free Marches seem to be really short on mages."

Sensing distress underlying Tal's words, Solas heaved himself to his feet with a smothered grunt and moved to lay a hand on the younger elf's shoulder. "What troubles you, falon?"

Tal's eyes had the slight watery glaze of intoxication and Solas wondered if he'd already consumed a bottle in the tavern before coming to see him. Yet, unlike in the Circle where Tal had become loose-lipped with even minor amounts of alcohol, the youth now pinched his lips together and sighed. "Oh," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Nothing."

Pausing a moment, Tal grimaced and used his free hand to gesture at the cabin behind Solas and then at the rest of Haven. "I mean, nothing except all this, Mythal save us. And that, too," he added, using the wine to indicate the green tear of the breach still in the sky despite all Rosa had done to close it.

Solas glanced quickly at the breach and then away again, feeling his guts tighten with anxiety of the reminder of his disastrous miscalculation. The orb vanished. Rosa marked with his Anchor. Hundreds, even thousands dead because of what he'd done and with no immediate result, effectively rendering all that life lost in vain. Somehow, he forced himself to chuckle at Tal's comment. "Yes, that is certainly something that troubles me as well."

Now Tal's brown eyes glittered with mischief. He reached up and grabbed Solas' hand, turning to tug him toward the stairs. "What d'you say we go have some drinks and play a few rounds of cards in the tavern? Varric's there and I bet him that you could outsmart him."

Solas locked his legs, resisting Tal's pull. "I'm afraid I have duties here to attend to," he said to excuse himself.

The younger elf shot him a disbelieving look. "Like what, Revas?"

"Cassandra has tasked me with finding a way to close the breach properly. I have reading and research to conduct." He motioned at the cabin where he did indeed have a pile of dusty tomes to pretend to consult on the issue of the breach.

Tal snorted, waving a hand dismissively at the cabin. "That'll be there when you get back. We have to celebrate Rosa being touched by the shemlen's prophet and all that." He grinned, leaning close with a twinkle in his eye. "And, when we've had enough booze and cards to get us riled up, we can go visit Rosa just to cheese Mahanon off."

The word around Haven was that Rosa—the "Herald" as the humans had started calling her—was merely sleeping. Everyone was confident she would waken again. Solas had been the one to carry her off the battlefield and had watched over her for a few hours the first evening, and during that time he'd concluded she would recover, though it would take some time. A few days or a week, perhaps. Solas had no desire to disrupt her sleep with boisterous, drunken interruptions.

"That would not be appropriate," he protested, shaking his head.

"Screw Han," Tal said with a shrug. "He'll hate you no matter how polite you are. There's no sense in trying to make him happy."

"I am not attempting to please him," Solas said, frowning.

"Are you trying to tell me you aren't going to win her back?" Tal asked, a bemused look crossing his face. "Was she some casual dalliance to you after all?" Solas might have missed the slight flare in Tal's nostrils or the tiny narrowing of his eyes if he had not known the other man from his time in the Hasmal Circle. That past experience let him interpret those tiny details as masked anger. Tal was angry with him—as Solas would have expected from a loyal and loving brother confronting his sister's ex-lover.

Because that was what this was, though Tal had hidden it well. He was as socially savvy as his father, Felassan, had been.

"No," Solas growled, feeling his cheeks heat up with real insult at the idea. "But she is not some prize to be won in a ridiculous competition between myself and Mahanon."

Tal scoffed lightly. "Not much of a competition, but you're right." Turning his head slightly, his brown eyes narrowed critically. "Let me rephrase then and put it as bluntly as Elgar'nan's fire. Do you still love Rosa?"

I never stopped, he thought, but this was a question he simply could not answer. Keeping his expression neutral, he said, "My feelings are immaterial. There are far more pressing matters currently." He motioned at the breach, so prominent in the darkening sky as dusk gathered.

"That's not an answer," Tal snapped with irritation. "But I won't press you. It's not like I'm some bastion of faithfulness and eternal love." He huffed. "At least tell me why you didn't come find her like you said you would?"

Now Solas winced slightly and let his eyes drop to the snow underfoot. "I had…other responsibilities."

Now Tal's features warped with bitterness. His lips puckered as though he'd tasted something sour and he wrinkled his nose with disgust. "You sound like my father. Lenalin."

The mention of Tal's father—Felassan—made Solas' spine stiffen and his heart pick up with both alarm and grief. Those were not the emotions he should feel in this conversation. He struggled to hide them.

Tal scowled and his voice was sharp with anger as he asked, "Your other responsibilities don't include another lover and a daughter halfway across Thedas, do they?"

Solas swallowed hard, struggling to remain impassive, yet he couldn't stop the icy ache in his throat as well as the heat of shame that stole over his cheeks. "No," he answered, though his voice was strained. "I have remained alone since leaving the Hasmal Circle."

"Small comfort to my sister while she waited for you to contact her," Tal growled.

Solas winced. He panned through his mind, eager to change the subject but the only topic that leapt to mind was to ask Tal about his father, to learn more about the life Felassan had hidden from him—and what he had ultimately died for. But neither Rosa nor Tal had ever opened up much about their father to him. His interest, therefore, would be odd. Best not to take the risk. Tal glowered at him, appearing more irritated than angry, though Solas suspected the youth merely masked the depth of his emotion. He expected a response and Solas hurried to supply one and make it as honest as he could.

"I cannot change the past," he said, slow and somber. "But it was my intent to contact her after this Conclave." That was both lie and truth. He wouldn't contact her, but would have his agents do it for him.

"Well," Tal said with a shrug, the anger leeching from his features gradually. "She's here now. Maybe drop in and see her?" He shrugged again and smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Just a thought."

With that, Tal left him and headed for the stairs. He swayed a bit more than he would have had he been entirely sober, but otherwise seemed to handle himself well. Solas smiled to himself as he watched the young man leave, though the expression was as much grief as joy.

Felassan had been his student from a very young age and their relationship had fluctuated and changed over time from student and teacher to almost father and son or brothers. Tal held a strong resemblance to his father now that Solas knew what to look for, though they had markedly different pigmentation. That resemblance now left Solas' chest aching with loss anew.

In a way, Rosa and Tal were like his grandchildren and it pained him to realize that Felassan had deliberately hidden them from him. Felassan had not trusted Solas enough, apparently fearing Solas would kill them or hold them hostage against him. To protect his children, he had faced Solas after defying him, knowing he would be killed rather than set free—but with his death, he left Solas no reason to take an interest in Rosa and Tal. Or so he thought. He hadn't known Solas had fallen in love with Rosa and come to admire Tal as a friend and didn't know who their father was. But now Felassan's death at Solas' own hands was another major reason he could not allow himself to rekindle his ill-advised relationship with Rosa. With their father's blood on his conscience, Solas deserved nothing but scorn from them for being too foolish to see the truth about the Dalish siblings' heritage sooner.

And yet…seeing Tal's long face with his refined features, echoing Felassan, brought joy to Solas. And recognizing that Rosa's violet eyes were the same shade as Felassan's warmed the cold heaviness of grief. Even though Felassan was gone and had defied him, it was comforting to know he lived on in Rosa and Tal. And Solas would act as their steward in honor of their father's memory, though he would have to do it invisibly and it would be a thankless job.

One day, when he tore down the Veil, Rosa and Tal would learn just who and what he really was, and Solas would spare them from the fire and chaos as modern Thedas burned. And when he had finally died in the struggle, completing this din'anshiral, Solas would make sure one of his agents was left to tell the siblings the truth about their father.

Rosa woke to the sound of Mahanon's irritable voice berating someone. "The elfroot in this is too strong, you fool! And the water isn't hot enough. If you really want to help her, you'll add in a pinch of dried spindleweed."

"Spindleweed," a quaking, female voice repeated. The accent sounded Ferelden.

"And on the double, flat-ear," Mahanon scolded with a snap of his fingers.

"At once, ser!" the warbling voice said.

Well, Rosa thought, sighing. I'm not dead at least. She sat up, wincing as she felt pain from bruises scattered over her body. Dim memories of the fight returned to her and she blinked, baffled to realize she was lying in a nice, plush bed inside a warm cottage. Her hands and feet were unbound and she wasn't wearing her armor any longer. Creators dammit, she thought as she felt over the thin button-up tunic and breeches they'd given her. Someone undressed me.

"Oh!" the quaking voice spoke again and Rosa saw a servant gawking at her from the darkened foyer to the little cabin. She held a tray with porcelain cups and a teakettle atop it, steaming. "You're awake!"

"Rosa!" Mahanon said, pivoting to face her from where he'd been standing beside the fire. His face lit up in a broad smile as he rushed forward to kneel beside her bed, reaching to encircle her in his arms. Rosa let herself be embraced, relief making her sigh as she realized he had survived the explosion at the Conclave.

Pulling back from her, Mahanon held onto her shoulders, grinning. "Mythal be praised! You're finally awake!"

A clattering from the door drew both of their gazes to the foyer where the servant had dropped the tray of teacups and the kettle. "Oh!" she squeaked. "Oh, no! I'm so sorry, my lady! I didn't mean—"

"Get out of here, fool flat-ear," Mahanon snarled at her, waving a hand dismissively.

"Lady Cassandra wanted to know when you'd woken. At once, she said," the servant rambled, backpedaling toward the door and wringing her hands.

Rosa shook her head. "Why are you so frightened? Has Han been berating you?" She already knew the answer to that was yes based on what she'd woken up hearing. Glaring at Mahanon, she said, "Do you really have to be a boor to everyone new you meet?"

Mahanon shook his head, trying to defend himself. "I was only—"

The servant whipped around and sprang out the door as if Rosa and Mahanon were about to unleash demons on her if she lingered a moment longer. Rosa sighed and reached out to grip Mahanon's shoulder. "Just help me up, will you? And tell me what in the great Beyond has happened. How long have I been asleep?"

"Three days," Mahanon replied, somber and grim. His hazel eyes crinkled with concern. "I worried you would never waken and would die of thirst. I have been at your bedside from the moment they let me out of my cell."

"You were in a cell?" she asked, surprised though she knew she shouldn't have been.

"Yes," he answered, huffing. "The shemlen interrogated me and Tal. We told them everything we could and—"

"What of Arvin?" she asked, though already her stomach tightened with the expectation that he must be dead.

Mahanon's eyes darted away. "Presumed dead. He was stationed with one of the Tal-Vashoth. They never found either of their bodies." His lips twisted with sadness, even though he and Arvin hadn't gotten along well.

Rosa closed her eyes against the pressure of tears. An ache started in her throat and her chest tightened. Arvin had been a hunter and rogue from Tal's clan, sent to bodyguard—and chaperone, Rosa suspected—their precious First. While Rosa and Tal had been in the Hasmal Circle she remembered Tal had called her something like that once: Precious First. He'd always been a bit jealous of her for that, but ironically when he bore the same responsibility he found it less than appealing. He'd leapt at the chance to accompany her on this spying mission to the Conclave and his clan had reluctantly agreed, but only on condition that Arvin would go with him. The steadfast hunter had been the strong silent type, but Rosa had grown to respect him. And now he was gone, just like many of the Valo-Kas—though she wasn't sure who. Her memory of the time she'd spent in Haven and at the Conclave was just…blank.

"Most of the Valo-Kas are dead too," Mahanon said, and his voice did sound distressed. His brows furrowed over his nose and his eyes were a touch too moist. "Shokrakar was here in Haven when the explosion happened, but the Adaar siblings, the dwarves, Hissra, Sataa, Meraad…" He shook his head, chin wrinkling. "So many dead." He lifted one calloused hand and touched her cheek tenderly. "How did you survive, vhenan?"

Though the term of endearment almost made her frown, Rosa decided to let him use it now. This wasn't a time to be picky. "I don't know," she answered and shrugged, wincing at the slight pain it caused. "I wish I did."

"Well," Mahanon said, nodding somberly. "It hardly matters. All that I care about is that you're alive." He leaned in close to her and pressed his lips to hers. Rosa didn't pull away, letting herself enjoy the warmth and softness of them and trying to feel that flutter of excitement and attraction in her belly—but it didn't come.

After a heartbeat, as Mahanon tried to deepen the kiss, Rosa laid a hand on his chest and pushed him back. He withdrew, a melancholy smile over his lips. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "I know it's hardly the time, I just couldn't help myself."

"It's fine," she reassured him, patting his hand still on her cheek, but a moment later she gripped it and pulled it away from her. "But help me up, please. I have to find whoever undressed me while I was out and kick their ass."

Mahanon chuckled. "That would be some Chantry sisters who kicked me and Tal out the first night." He helped pull her onto her feet from the bed and held her as she swayed, finding her balance. "Whatever you did to the breach made it stop growing and calm, but it's not sealed. Still, that hasn't stopped the humans from calling you a Herald now. They think their prophet sent you. The one who was burned alive as a witch on the stake."

"Andraste," Rosa said, snorting. "Clearly these people have no idea who I am. A teacher in the Circle used to beat me for refusing to sing the Chant. I even told her Andraste could kiss my ass once."

"It doesn't matter," Mahanon said, chuckling at her story though he'd heard it before—as most of Lavellan clan had now. "Soon we'll be headed for home and they'll forget all about this Herald nonsense."

Rosa wasn't as confident of that, though she didn't disagree. Mahanon moved to a chair along the window where her mercenary armor had been neatly folded and arranged. Rosa concentrated on taking a few steps on her own, grimacing with lingering pain from the battle. "Is Tal out drinking?" she asked as Mahanon returned with her armor.

He nodded, lips pinched together tightly. "He was here earlier, but we fought and he left to mingle with the shemlen and that novelist dwarf."

"Varric," Rosa said, smiling fondly as she clutched the armor he held out to her. "They were friends in the Circle."

Now Mahanon's face twisted unpleasantly. "I talked with the flat-ear mage called Revas. The one who abandoned you. He had the gall to tell me you and he were merely friends too."

Rosa shot him a glare. "Let me guess. You told him to stay away from me."

"I'm only trying to protect you," Mahanon said, not even bothering to deny it. He laid a hand on her back, soft and gentle. "I don't want him to—"

"Whatever," Rosa interrupted, shrugging off his hand. "I don't want to hear it right now, Han." She knew from past experience that she shouldn't let herself get worked up while Rogathe was within her. The spirit tended to influence her unduly when she became emotional with fear, anger, outrage, or hopelessness.

"All right," he said, though his voice held a grumble of disapproval. "How can I help you then?"

"By getting out so I can change," she said and stabbed a finger toward the foyer and the door beyond.

"Is that truly necessary?" Mahanon asked, shaking his head. "You're weak. I could help you."

"Are you going to do as I ask or not?" Rosa demanded.

Mahanon sighed and nodded. He looked like a beaten puppy; shoulders slumped and head drooping, as he walked for the door. Rosa waited until she'd heard it open and shut before she returned to her bed and let her armor flop onto it. Scrubbing at her face, she cursed under her breath with frustration and renewed grief as she remembered all those dead in the explosion. Humorous Kaaras, cantankerous Herah, sly Edric, wry Malika, and wise, stoic Arvin.

She sat on the bed and bent over, wrapping her arms around herself as she let the burning pressure behind her eyes spill out as tears. Though she didn't know how or why, she felt this was all somehow her fault. The shemlen might believe her blessed by Andraste and heaven, but Rosa imagined she had actually been more like Dirthamen's ravens, Fear and Deceit, accidentally falling into catastrophe of her own making. And, perhaps, if she'd been just a little bit smarter, she could have stopped it.

Brushing her fingers over where the mysterious green mark lay in her left hand, Rosa thought of Solas. Whether it was in the Fade or in a quietly whispered conversation inside this very cabin, Rosa needed to find him and force him to talk. She owed the countless people who'd died in the Conclave that much at least.

Despite Rosa's best efforts, she didn't make it to Solas with any speed. Instead she was half-coaxed, half-strong armed into joining the Seeker's fledgling Inquisition. After agreeing to become their "Herald," Rosa found herself at the Seeker's mercy as the human woman dragged her all over Haven for specialized armor and weapons.

Then Sister Leliana debriefed and further interrogated her about herself and everything at the Conclave. She also laid out dossiers for important people who'd already joined the Inquisition: Cullen Rutherford, Josephine Montilyet, Cassandra Pentaghast, a scout named Lace Harding, Varric Tethras, and Solas, known under his alias name Revas. Lastly, Leliana also told her that the Seeker intended to find Mother Giselle in the Hinterlands in about a week and Rosa would be expected to attend.

Josephine and Cullen both had things they wished to speak with her about as well, but by then Rosa was exhausted. She excused herself, refusing to be waylaid, and tried to hurry back to the cabin that was, apparently, hers. Unfortunately everyone in Haven recognized her and their gawking, praying, and general kowtowing made Rosa burn with humiliation. That in turn roused Rogathe within her until she was struggling not to glare back at the humans around her, hoping to find a fight that would distract her.

Inside her cabin finally, sheltered from the locals' stares, Rosa paced like a caged animal, wringing her hands. How was she supposed to do this? The flutter of panic only incensed Rogathe further inside her. There was no chance of sleeping while she fumed over her own fears. When Mahanon appeared with a somewhat intoxicated Tal in his wake, Rosa sent him out to fetch her some wine and a dose of sleeping draught.

"What?" Mahanon asked, baffled. "Why sleeping draught?" He knew, like all of Lavellan clan, that she had never had difficulty sleeping. The clan knew she was a Dreamer and could enter the Fade consciously, at will. Keeper Deshanna had considered it an honor to accept such a First, despite Rosa's rather…unconventional initial meeting with the older woman.

"Just do it," she growled and then, through gritted teeth, added, "Please."

Mahanon clenched his jaw and left.

Now Rosa was mercifully alone with her little brother. She stared at him, her hands clenched into fists at her sides and her body shaking with restrained fury. Tal cocked his head, his glassy eyes narrowing. "Asamalin?"

"It's Rogathe," Rosa told him quickly, her voice strained as though she were in pain. "It possessed me in the Conclave, I think."

"You don't know?" Tal asked, both brows lifting with shock.

"Elgar'nan's flaming asshole," she growled as she started pacing between the bed and the window. "How many times do I have to tell people I don't fucking remember anything."

Tal chuckled. "I thought you were just saying that to the humans to trick them. You're so sneaky like that I'd almost believe it. Just like I almost believed it when you told me you didn't still love that so-called flat-ear Revas, or Prideful One, or whatever his name is."

She halted her pacing, looking to Tal as some of the tension inside her eased with affection for her brother. He wasn't as tightlipped as she wished in so many things, but he was as clever as the Dread Wolf himself sometimes. Turning toward the window again, she moved to clasp the edges of the sill with both fists as she grumbled, "I hope you're not telling him that." She grimaced as Rogathe reacted to that, decrying it as cowardice. If she still desired Solas she should go to him, confess her emotion, and face whatever he had to say about it. The spirit had that same advice for confronting Solas about his abandonment. Pushing that disastrous thought aside, Rosa kept the spirit reined in.

"Nope," Tal said. "But I did tell him Han isn't your husband and that, generally speaking, you don't abandon someone you say you love."

Her head spun, mixed emotions swirling in an eddy inside her. Huffing out a breath, she gave her head a shake, trying to clear it. "I have to talk to that bald bastard," she complained, hands tightening their grip on the sill. "About Rogathe," she added, specifying.

"And sooner rather than later, I expect," Tal agreed with a grunt. "You want my help with that? Like keeping Han away or something?"

"Yes," she admitted, pushing off the sill to resume her fevered pacing. "But I'm a bit afraid Rogathe will get…" She gritted her teeth. "Out of control. It doesn't like him."

Her brother snorted. "I wonder why," he murmured sarcastically.

Ignoring his comment, Rosa crossed her arms over the thin tunic the humans had given her, frowning as she resumed her tight circuit between window and bed. "I slapped him in the middle of the fight with the pride demon beneath the breach."

Tal laughed, short and loud. "I wish I'd been able to see that, actually."

"And then my recklessness nearly got me killed," Rosa snarled. "And it did get me scorched."

"You couldn't handle a simple pride demon?" Tal asked, incredulous.

"It was Rogathe," Rosa grumbled as she flopped down on her bed, feet hanging off it onto the bare floor but arms thrown out wide. "You know how I was with it in a fight."

"Yeah," Tal agreed, amusement coloring his voice. "Like that time in the Heartlands when that dragonling ambushed me and you charged in like an angry bronto with no barrier and tried to strangle it with your bare hands?"

"Yeah," she replied with a grunt, wincing as she remembered the burns she'd received on her nose and chin and hands from using her arms to block its fiery breath. The storm magic charring she'd woken with this time was minor comparatively, but the force of the demon's whip had definitely bruised a few ribs. She rubbed at them now, breathing deeply to see if that hurt.

"You know," Tal started, clearing his throat. "Maybe it's just me, but…"

The hesitancy and caution in his voice made Rosa sit up, looking to him with brows raised in expectation. "Yes?"

Tal's brow furrowed as he met her eye. "I ran into Revas here in Haven just before the explosion. "

Rosa's heart was suddenly thundering in her ears. "And?"

Tal shuffled from one foot to the other as a muscle flared in his temple. "He was…really disturbed when he saw me. He asked about you right away, wanted to see you. He looked a little green when I told him you were at the temple." His lips pinched into a hard line. "If I was a suspicious person I'd think he knew something terrible was about to happen and was trying to save you from it."

Tal's brown eyes held the question, dark and grim. She knew he had long suspected Solas wasn't a city elf but actually a survivor of uthenera like their father. Rosa had never confirmed his suspicion and she knew Tal didn't hold it against her, but it made a lot of sense for him to be suspicious. Rosa had been as well, but Tal's comments only solidified the terrible notion that Solas had been responsible, somehow, for the explosion.

"Well," she said, frowning. "I am a suspicious person and I will be asking that flat-ear just what brought him to Haven." She snorted. "We know it wasn't because he hoped to find me and the rest of the Hasmal tower there."

"I'll keep my little suspicious thoughts to myself," Tal told her with a dry smile. "For now, anyway. I just thought you should know."

"Yes," she agreed, nodding. "I'd rather not get him killed." Pausing a moment, she muttered, "Not before I hear an explanation and kick his ass for what he did to me—maybe not in that order."

Tal smirked. "Say the word, asamalin, and I'll—" A knock on the door interrupted Tal then and he blinked, turning to regard the foyer. "That'll be Han, I'd bet. Come to tuck you in with that sleeping draught."

"Good," Rosa said, groaning as she scrubbed at her face with frustration. "But if you could try to keep him from tucking me in, I'd be eternally grateful."

"You got it," Tal said and spun about on his heel, jogging to the door and opening it. But as soon as he did Rosa heard him inhale sharply and then, in a needlessly loud but pleasant voice, he said, "Why, Revas! Aneth ara, falon. What brings you by the Herald's cabin?"

"Fenedhis," Rosa cursed under her breath, shooting up to her feet and taking a step toward the foyer and the door only to turnabout and hurry back for the bed. She'd been about to race out there, shove Tal aside, and punch Solas in the face. That was Rogathe's influence as it squirmed inside her, winding up that coil of anxious energy inside her guts again. Bristling and breathing fast, shoulders hunched and hands sweaty, Rosa paced between the window and the bed again, trying to hear over the pulse of her hot blood in her ears.

Solas' voice, still enchanting despite her anger and bitterness, came through the air, as crisp and beautiful as snowflakes. "Greetings, Tal. I had hoped to speak with Rosa." A slight pause and then he added, "In private. If that would be possible."

Rosa risked a glance out into the foyer and saw Tal leaning against the frame in a slouched posture that she knew to be playful—yet her brother also used it to disguise uneasiness. Tal said, "Do you always do the exact opposite of what you say you're going to do, Revas?"

"Excuse me?" Solas asked, his voice a tad thin with what Rosa read as tension.

"You wouldn't visit my sister when she was unconscious for fear of pissing off Han. You said it'd be inappropriate. Now you show up as soon as Han steps away and ask to talk to her alone?" He snorted with a little dry laugh.

"I have not come for a social visit," Solas said, obviously annoyed now. "I believe Rosa will want to speak with me regarding a certain friend of hers by the name of Rogathe."

"Oh," Tal said, drawing out the word. Then he must have twisted to direct his voice back inside the cabin to shout to her. "Asamalin? Revas is out here and he wants to talk to you alone. You down with that?"

"Bring him in," she said, still pacing rapidly between bed and window, arms crossed over her chest and hunched with the tautness of her muscles as she struggled to maintain control over Rogathe. "But stay, Tal. Please."

"You're the boss," Tal said and a moment later Rosa heard his footsteps with Solas' echoing behind him as they closed the door and crossed the foyer to enter the little bedroom. Tal strode into the room and flopped down on a chair in the corner with an exaggerated sigh. He slouched into the seat and raised his arms up behind his head, stretching in a show of relaxation.

Rosa kept watching her brother, certain she'd lose control if she looked at Solas, but she knew they had little time to waste before Mahanon would return and cause even more drama. So, in a grating voice, she said, "Start talking, flat-ear."

After a beat of silence, Solas finally spoke. "Rogathe had possessed you earlier. Has it returned to the Fade yet?"

"No," she snarled, her gaze locked on the wooden planks in the floor as she marched. "If you have any suggestions for how to release it, I'm all ears." She felt a momentary burst of pride at how calm the last part had emerged. The positive emotion helped rein Rogathe back into submission, giving her the courage to lift her head and look at her former lover.

Solas stood on the threshold between the foyer and the bedroom area. His shoulders were squared and his jaw clenched. His hands were clasped behind his back. He wore a tunic in a cream-tan color that made her think of balsa wood. Dark green breeches and brown leg wraps completed the ensemble. A black-lacquered partial jawbone from some type of animal—probably a wolf she guessed by the size and shape—hung about his neck on a black, double stranded cord. It was an attractive ensemble, better than the Circle robes she'd last seen him in.

Fenedhis, she thought and bristled, looking swiftly back to the wood underfoot. Two minutes in the same room with him and she'd already started complimenting him. Dread Wolf take him! Why did he have to be so attractive? Why couldn't he show up with mustard stains on his tunic and spinach in his teeth and snot hanging from his nose? But no, instead she could already smell the piney fragrance he carried about him that reminded her painfully of his expert touch on her skin, of his magic caressing her, and his mouth on her lips…on her sex…

Gnashing her teeth, she redoubled her speed, almost jogging now in her short pacing circuit. Rogathe, agitated inside her, twisted and churned, growing hot and pressing against the restrains of her control. She had to calm down or she would lose that thin veil that separated her consciousness from the spirit. Then Rogathe would be speaking as much as she and she would lose her inhibitions. Lose her self.

"The breach may interfere with Rogathe's departure," Solas said, businesslike and calm. "I would suggest traveling as soon as you are able to escape its influence as much as possible. Then Rogathe may leave of its own volition as it has done before. But you must not wait, Rosa. I fear the breach could twist Rogathe the longer it remains near it and within you."

"You don't say," Rosa grumbled sardonically, shaking her head. "And here I thought I'd spend another two years with it because I just love being as volatile as a volcano."

Solas let out a little breath and Rosa resisted the desire to check his expression. "I understand you are unhappy with me, but I hope we may establish a peaceful working relationship as we are both members now of the Inquisition."

Rosa sneered at the floor with anger and bitterness. "You're lucky the Seeker is in charge, flat-ear, because I'd have kicked you out."

He made a small noise of surprise that drew Rosa's gaze before she could stop herself. She caught the flash of his expression, warped and strained with pain. His neat, white teeth looked about as pale as his skin. His blue eyes were locked on her, dark with emotion and flicked immediately to her eyes when she stared at him. It wasn't anger she saw in his face, but something raw and vulnerable and achingly sad that seemed to echo in her own heart with memories of that spring when—

Rogathe surged in her, rising like a tidal wave, and she gasped, clenching her jaw and squeezing her eyes shut tightly. Her pacing stopped as she laid her palms on either side of her head. "Fuck," she cursed like a shemlen. "Shit, shit…dammit."

Tal all but leapt from his chair in the corner, reaching for her. "Shhhhh," he said. "Calm, calm, calm. Remember the time we saw those two bogfishers humping each other? That was hilarious, right?"

The memory sparked at his mentioning of it and suddenly Rosa was able to think again, to breathe without wanting to scream and see without the red screen over her vision. She clung to Tal with a death grip, focusing on her breathing as Tal continued to chatter animatedly.

"Remember how bored the female looked and I said she reminded me of my last partner? The shem who thought she was half-Dalish?" Tal chuckled, and the sound was both genuine and tight at the same time. "And then the male fell off and I said he reminded me of my last male partner. The city elf with—"

She burst out laughing, the spell of rage shattered. Clinging onto Tal's shoulder, she gave him a squeeze as she regained control, pushing Rogathe deep where it could go dormant. "Ma serannas, isamalin," she said, smiling at him. He'd spent their year of traveling together before their capture by Templars perfecting ways to defuse Rogathe and they'd found humor worked best.

Feeling confident of her control now, Rosa looked to Solas again and saw his expression had gone ashen, downright grave. His blue eyes crinkled with sympathy and his brows lowered with concern. In a quiet voice he said, "You must not let the humans see you this way, Rosa. Feign illness, make some excuse—anything. Please."

"Now you care about my welfare?" she snapped, feeling the rush of rage return, boiling her blood. He winced at her comment, as if she'd slapped him again. Drawing in a deep breath, she turned away from him, the pressure in her chest making her feel as though her heart would tear its way from her chest. Rogathe was already rattling its metaphorical chains and finding them insufficient. To control the spirit, she needed to escape…

As if he could read her mind, Tal said, "Maybe you should leave, Revas."

"She possessed a pendant to control the spirit before the Templars took it," Solas said, ignoring Tal's suggestion. There was an unmistakable note of urgency in his voice. "Can you recreate it?"

"I don't know," Tal said and Rosa felt his shoulder shrug under her right hand. Keeping her breathing controlled, she turned her head to glare at Solas and saw he still wore the same wounded, worried expression as before. Swallowing hard, she tried to keep her mind blank and feel nothing. "I don't know what spell was used, just that it was a blood magic binding of—"

The door to the cabin opened and Mahanon stepped through it, stamping his feet to kick off the snow and gravel clinging to his boots. He carried a small brown paper bag and the chilly wind from outside wafted the scent of herbs still lingering on his mercenary garb. As he looked up and realized Solas was present, he scowled and glowered, clearly fuming. "What are you doing here, flat-ear?"

"Merely discussing matters of magic," Solas replied coolly. "And I should be on my way." Turning back to Rosa and Tal he dipped his head respectfully, though his jaw was clenched with tension. His eyes were as good as glued to Rosa as he said, "I hope you will feel better soon, Herald."

Rosa bit her tongue to keep herself from protesting that ridiculous title and a heartbeat later Solas had turned and strode stiffly past Mahanon, leaving the cabin. Mahanon sneered at the other elf as he passed and then slammed the door shut with more force than necessary—and inches from Solas' ass.

"Flat-eared son of a bitch," he snarled, his hazel eyes narrowed at Rosa with a mixture of concern and disapproval. He held the paper bag aloft. "Was my trip to fetch this just a diversion?" he asked, a touch snide.

Rosa rolled her eyes. "No," she snapped. Leaving Tal, she stalked forward and grabbed the bag from him, a bit harsher than she needed to. It smelled sharply of medicinal herbs and she sighed with relief as she saw the blue vial of sleeping draught. Alongside it was a small dark bottle of wine. Her eyes fluttered shut with relief. "Ma serannas, Han. Truly."

"The apothecary warned against drinking too much wine with the draught," Mahanon cautioned her, his voice softer now as he realized his trip hadn't been a trick. "He said drink the first half of the draught and if that doesn't knock you out in five minutes to drink the next half."

"How much is too much wine?" Tal asked as Rosa left Mahanon in the foyer and strode to the bed, sitting down heavily on it and prying at the cap on the sleeping draught. She set the wine aside on the bed and it rolled in the paper bag, thumping against her thigh with a musical noise of liquid sloshing.

"Half the bottle?" Mahanon asked, shrugging. "I'm not sure. Maybe less for an elven woman." He spread his hands in another gesture of confusion. "I wasn't first to the healer so I don't know enough to be sure."

Rosa pried off the cap. It fell to the floor and clinked metallically on the wooden planks. Tipping the vial to her lips, she drank the full draught in a quick two swallows while her brother and pseudo-betrothed started bickering. As usual.

Tal snorted. "Really? Your mother is Lavellan's healer, isn't she? You weren't paying much attention then."

"I was busy learning to be a hunter," Mahanon snapped.

"See, I did that and I picked up a lot of tricks from my mother, the hearthkeeper. I can cook most of the meals she did, wash clothes with the best of them, and repeat all the greatest tales. " Tal was boasting a bit, picking a fight as he so often did with Mahanon, but Rosa could hardly bring herself to care as she began to feel a heavy weight spreading out through her limbs.

Groaning, she motioned at Mahanon. "Thanks again for the…thing." Her eyelids had become lead. "…'s working."

Mahanon moved for her bedside. "Here, vhenan, let me tuck you in."

She waved him away with one hand. "I got it." Drunkenly, swaying as she shifted on the bed and tugged at the covers, Rosa crawled into the bed and flopped down limp as if she'd cast a Veilstrike on herself. "Sleep…wherever," she told them, gesturing weakly at the rest of the room. "Night-night."

As she slipped into the darkness, she heard Tal say to Mahanon, "I'll arm wrestle you for the corner chair. Whaddaya say?"

Mahanon snorted. "You're on, pipsqueak."

Next Chapter

"Be careful, vhenan," Mahanon told her, his brow furrowed with the same concern Solas heard so clearly in his voice.

The term of endearment on the other man's lips made Solas' stomach churn with revulsion. That bitter, acidic emotion inside…jealousy…was something he had felt so rarely in his long life that he actually had to wonder for a moment if he might actually be ill instead. Perhaps he had eaten a bit of bad meat or tainted herbs? But with a few swallows and short breaths it passed.

Endnote: Hopefully Rosa isn't too caustic here, but man, I'm sure you guys can all agree she (and Rogathe) have some huge pent up emotions. This is some of the angriest she'll be, but obviously this will be a slow burn. If you read StCM you might have noticed a few little hints of...something. But I'm still playing it close.

Big thank yous to everyone who reviewed! Sutet: I hope you enjoyed this "alone" time, hahaha! This is the raw rage part of her, from Rogathe. There will be more chapters where she's still angry but quieter and has more "quality" alone time. I intend to make Solas suffer quite a bit more! KiraChan: About what happened...well, I shan't say here. But oh yes, the angst here is a hundred feet thick and lush, like an old growth forest! It's funny that you called Rosa levelheaded, as I was thinking with Rogathe she's so unstable, but the true instability hadn't really been as visible in the past two chapters the way it is here. BTW, I still think about that plot bunny you introduced me to...b/c letting "things" happen differently than I plotted out here is still so delicious! Urazz: Yes, truer words have never been spoken (er, rather written). He's going to start in earnest next chapter, but it's going to be a while. Particularly since he's going to pretend (read: deny) he wants her for a while.

Until next week! I have twelve completed chapters and writing is slow as I work full time, so I can't up it to twice a week. Sorry! :-S