The balmy sea spray stung the inside of her nose, but it was the blending of deep cobalt to light chartreuse topped with snow white foam that caused tears to well up against her eyes. Her lush eyes were captivated at the swell of the sea, astonished at the resemblance to what she imagined a moving painting would appear like. She swallowed the tender lump in her throat, allowing a grin to crease her face and inhaling the sea air deeply before giving a chuckling sigh. "I smell seaweed. How do I know seaweed?" Sera questioned absentmindedly while holding a flat palm above her brows to peer across the moving hills. Lavellan glanced backwards to her group members, only to be the sole witness of a wave crashing down on Solas who was bringing up the rear of the party. A gargled shout from the elf caused the others to turn just as the wave faded and slipped back into the coast, leaving the mage dripping wet with seaweed locks tangled on his bald head and patches of spindleweed adorning the tips of his ears. Lavellan wrestled with concern and amusement as she hedged forward to the mage, "Are you okay, Hahren?" She squeaked between holding in a cackle and retaining a calm breath. The unfiltered snickering from Sera echoed off the cliffs and Blackwall released a uproarious guffaw at the situation. Lavellan approached the mage as he peeled seaweed from himself and shook off his staff, his features tight in mortification and refusing to look at the incoming elf.
She plucked spindleweed from his ears, biting her lip to prevent a chortle from escaping. Her kindness sanded down his embarrassment and softened his heart with her careful preservation of his ego, his steel azure eyes connected with her vibrant leaf colored ones and a coy grin sprouted in the corner of his lip. Her finger tips vibrated with heat, drifting her hand over his ears and cheek bones, before settling on his jaw. His stomach curled at the intimacy and he felt blood against the back of his ears, his eyes straying down to her cheek bones to the curve of her nose and to the fall of her plum lips.
The abhorrent feeling of seaweed slipping down from his forehead to over his vision shattered the moment between them and the raucous laughter from behind her only solidified. A stifled giggle slipped through Lavellan's mouth as she flicked plant life back into the water, her delicate laugh breaking some of his tension and giving permission for him to return a light chuckle.
They continued prowling the coast for the fabled bull's chargers. After minutes of following faint sounds of battle, they navigated to a small alcove and were greeted with the swords of Venatori. Oblivious to the danger however Lavellan stood bewitched at the vision of the Qunari; His duo onyx horns poised up to the sky, his grey skin slick with sweat and his muscles bulging at the weight of his two handed weapon. It was only after an icicle pierced through the chest of an incoming enemy that Lavellan drew her daggers in defense, causing a huff to resonate from the mage towards Lavellan's carelessness. Lavellan's hesitation towards killing diminished with each new excursion and she became more proactive in tricking a foe to their death, this allowed her to move quickly in between enemies and cut down ones already nearing the end to dismantle congestion on the battle field. As she weaved around Blackwall, she became caught between the wall of a cliff and the high blow of an enemy's ax. She dodged the first hit by falling into a summersault on the ground but just as she got her footing again, the enemy had already been half way to delivering another attack. She seized up, bracing for the blow and locking eyes with her attacker.
The weapon blurred as she was yanked from the blow with the wrap of a thick grey arm encircling around her waist. The Qunari's throaty tease tickled her ears, creating a flush to flourish on her face and for her to stumble over words of appreciation. Her thanks became lost as she yelped in surprise, suddenly being hoisted up on to his shoulder with very little effort. She clamored to straddle the Bull's neck from behind, grasping hard onto his horns while he continued his press of attacks into enemies. She witnessed his battle style from the safety of above, taking note of his jovial nature while the taunting foes into pursuit but the act was not without method.
He laughed deeply as the last Venatori fell and the vibrations of his joy traveled through her legs but she made no intention of leaving the man's shoulders, uncertain if she wanted to leave such a safe space. A curt huff was exhaled and the kicking of gravel could be heard as Solas marched from the back of the group directly towards the Qunari. "Ara seranna-ma," His voice was flat with indifference if the Iron Bull understood and the phrase being more out of habit than politeness for the grey man. The mage lifted his palms In offering towards her, "Penshra Ghilas vellathan, lethallan." his words to her were smooth as a polished stone and gentle as a stream from a river. She stirred from above the horns, adjusting her legs to one side of the qunari's shoulder to angle her decent. Iron bull offered his hand for added balance, despite the lethal looks Solas shot him, which she took gracefully before tumbling into Solas's arms. He held her tightly against his chest, fingers lingering on the small of her back and she felt his tension dissolve under her skin.
"I try to avoid letting people ride me when I first meet them." The Iron Bull said chuckling as he rested his ax on his back and turned to the rest of the group, Lavellan recoiled from Solas to scan the shore for her fallen daggers. "Yeah, you should've at least bought me a drink first before handling me." The comment slipped out before she could scoop it back into her brain and she screamed internally. Sera made an impressed hum as she elbowed Blackwall in the ribs, pointing to the interaction with a smirk on her face. "I can still buy you one tonight." The Qunari oozed with confidence, challenging her but she didn't dare to match his tenacity. "Perhaps after we solve the tear in the sky first.." Solas interjected bluntly before walking past the two to stand with Sera and Blackwall.
The comment was laid to rest as they spoke of the band of mercenaries, followed by what could be gained from having a Ben-Hassrath among the inquisition. Lavellan mulled over the decision as she begrudgingly sipped a mug of ale that had been given to her, she was concerned with being double crossed from the inside but eventually resolved that there was always that chance. A hearty laugh left his throat after she agreed to have them aboard and he slapped her on the back with enthusiasm, causing her to choked on her alcohol in surprise before sheepishly smiling up at Iron Bull. Together they trudged their way back up the shore, the chargers in tow with Solas bringing up the rear once more, his expression in contemplation while he watched the horizon.
The warmth of the fire was eagerly welcomed after the day's adventure through the misty wilderness of the storm coast, evoking Lavellan to change into dry clothes and allowing her under armor to air out in the confines of her tent. She stepped out of her tent and settled down next to the fire in between the Cassandra and the Grey Warden, the latter of which was inquiring about Par Vollen from the Iron Bull. She listened intently while serving herself to some dried rabbit and vegetable stew, intentionally taking a smaller portion in the hopes to save enough for the rest of her group. She finished quickly and felt a dip of disappointment in her chest at that discovery, but instead focused on listening to imagery of the foreign nation. Her wooden bowl shrugged in her hand, causing her to glance over and discover Blackwall ladling a scoop of stew into her bowl. She tried to protest to the kindness and Blackwall shook his head, speaking softly to avoid attention to the act. "A hero has to eat, you know.." She stared down at her stew, biting her lip softly, the guilt building up in her eyes. "I'm not a hero.." She whispered to the grey warden, the title of Herald weighing heavy on her. "Everyone else needs this more than I do.." She trailed off before offering the bowl to him. There was a curve in his lips while he corrected her, "You're not a hero.. yet. But you will be. Now, eat up." His words ended the conversation and she looked down at the food, licking her lips in hunger.
With her hunger satiated, she rested comfortably by the flames as she listened to Sera describe a noble who's pants she set on fire during a red jenny excursion, only to have her attention drawn away by a gust of wind that rattled the branches of the forest. Her eyes followed the line of trees bending in the wind and ended upon the sight of a dull blue glow in the distance. She tilted her head in puzzlement, rising to enter the woods barefoot to investigate. A torch of veil fire had been planted along the out line of a dirt clearing, as she reached to examine, flames caught in her peripherals from both sides. She spun on her heels to watch other veil fire torches circling the clearing combust into life and she found Solas standing humbly in the middle of the clearing with a playful curve etched on his lips. "Lethallan, would you care for some magic training?" He inquired, approaching her with gauged steps and she hesitated while looking up to the hidden moon. He stepped before her, offering a hand to lead to the center of the field. "If you don't mind teaching someone as inexperienced as I am.." She grasped his hand delicately before nodding and he swept the area with her, keeping their hands firmly raised together. He chuckled before releasing her hand, "I have plenty of experience for the two of us."
They stood side by side and he held an open palm before him, demonstrating how to collect mana from the environment. Amazement held her expression at the sight of magic sparks swarming his hand. "How are you doing that?" her words were breathless, a few stray fireflies of mana drifting against the breeze to graze against her cheek and causing her to shiver at the sensation. "I close my eyes and imagine within my palm here is a seed, ready to germinate. However.." He paused to gingerly raise her palm up towards the sky, "Life needs sustenance. A plant draws from it's environment for this." The undercurrent of mana shifted and reveled wisps of roots from underneath his hand entering through him. "We use a connection with the fade for our abilities and when we tap into that power.." He clenched his hand and upon releasing it, blue flames stemmed from the center of his palm. Around them the veil torches sparked as they flared up, rising together until all connected at a point above their heads and cast them in a dome of blue. Ghostly figures shadowed against the ring of veil fire, curiously peering into the circle. "We grow. You, have grown."
Lavellan exhaled a breath she didn't know she was holding and peered with wonderment over the force of magic around them, still absentmindedly holding up her palm to the sky. She fumbled for words for questions she couldn't even articulate as the veil flames shrunk low to the torch houses. "I have so many questions.." She mumbled wearily before meeting his eyes, finding them to be bright and playful. Solas chuckled before laying his hand atop her palm, "Perhaps just focus on growing a seedling first." His words nudged her into a good natured mood. He withdrew his hand away from hers, folding his arms behind him while he paced the clearing. Her eye brows scrunched and she cracked her neck in preparation for what she would imagine to be a struggle. She was silent as she focused in corralling energy in, wandering quires passing before one settled in for good.
Elven lore had saddled the blame of causing the veil upon Fen'Harel, his act of banishing the gods, the death of Mythal and the reason why Arlathan fell. But before all the betryal, what had the world been like? The wonder gave her pause and the distraction caused a spark of mana to singe her skin. "What about when there was no veil?" Her words unfiltered, as if she were alone and conversing with herself. Solas slowed his gait and he hesitated his next steps, then a curve of a smile was created on to his face. "It has been said that the ancient elves lived with magic as we do with water. It flowed around them, plentiful and as boundless as the sea." His voice was tinged with sorrow and it concern brewed within her chest. "The creation of the veil disrupted that, creating separate realms and taking this world far from where it once was. What was once accessible to all, now restricted to only a few." His eyes were stained with sadness yet his face remained unchanged, stoic. He inhaled, forming words in his mouth before he shook his head and dismissed the thought. The silence held them both for moments before he glanced up to her, unaware she had been watching him. He nonchalantly straightened his back before continuing his stride, muscles tight from the conversation.
"It must've been.. wonderful." She whispered to her fingers, which were now getting cold with the misty air. He was thankful she did not witness the surprise that graced his face over the comment. There was a violet twinkle against her palm which caused her to gasp and she could tell from the warmth in his voice that he was grinning. "Pull from your environment into your hand, let yourself grow." Her confidence lifted at affirmation, and the tension in her hand relaxed. She closed her eyes and envisioned her palm held rich dark dirt and nestled within was the seed of a flower, ready and willing to begin. The pulse of nature causing the seed to flourish into a sapling, breaking the earth to face the sun above, pulling inward to draw life and exhaling into growth. She nearly clenched her fist at the sight when she opened her eyes.
Her palm held a pulsing golden mana flower, the petals burning bright as the sun and swaying against the wind around them, casting shimmers into the night sky around them. Her breath hitched and she stood enraptured at the creation. "Well done, Lavellan." Solas peered onward, a smile tucked against the corner of his lips. She beamed over towards Solas, laughing lightly at the creation before inhaling deeply. She slowly blew against the flower and witnessed it's petals pull from the bud and float away in the breeze before disappearing completely. "We will train your will to control magic and withstand possession. Your indomitable focus will be a enjoyable side benefit." His words were smooth and she felt the tips of her ears go red. "Indomitable focus?" She toyed with him, placing a hand on her hip and tilting her head. He approached each torch with a raised hand, and each extinguished on it's own. "Presumably, I have yet to see it dominated. I imagine the sight would be.. fascinating."
Her mind echoed the word "dominated" and it tickled her spine, she attempted to hid her growing blush by staring in the opposite direction of him. "Just as you trained to flick a dagger or an arrow to it's target, you must with magic as well. The grace with which you move is the pleasing side benefit of your training." His words were punctuated with his idling by the final fire and she glanced up to him, drawing closer with caution. "So, you're suggesting I'm graceful?" Her head was light as the words slipped out, her heart was beating hard against her ribs at the notion of being considered graceful by him, let alone anyone. "No. I am declaring it. It was not a subject for debate." His words were thick with confidence and she swallowed hard.
A male voice called her name from camp, it was followed by incoming footsteps among the dewy grass a distance away. She was jolted from the coquettish nature that surrounded them, whispering a thanks before slipping away towards the calling. She granted one glance over her shoulder to the elf. He held cracks of sorrow along the edge of his mouth but it was gone in an instant as he extinguished the last fire and faded into darkness, but the image remained in her mind.
It matched the look his gaunt face held now, from behind the cold bars of the damp cell he occupied. A haze of crimson circled his head like a crown, his eyes were set a glow in ruby color while eye sockets were sunken and smeared with dirt. She smothered a cry at the vision of him, the stifled noise catching his attention and making him step to the front of his cell to peer out curiously. A single year had passed, she tried to remind herself, a year without her presence had such a drastic effect on the future.
His eyes split open with recognition of her features, "Lavellan?" His voice cracked on the vowels of her name, it was sweet on his tongue and it sent shivers through his bones. Her name had been a mantra for strength while he endured torture and as praise when rain would seep through the cobbled walls of his cell. He returned to memories of nursing her back from the brink, of her compulsion to protect others, of the mage trainings alone with her, of the scent of her hair and the nature of her spirit.
A great desire overwhelmed him and weakness made the concern of a demon posing as her only a minor worry, he would welcome death if it was in the arms of this woman. She rushed forward to the door of the cell and he paralleled, clamoring to clasp their hands together. Murmurings of Elven spoken between them as he shut his eyes, her hands were as soft as flower petals and she still smelled of elfroot. She asked if he was okay, to which he mournfully replied that he was dying slowly. She explained that Dorian and her had been pushed forward in time, and if they could go back the suffering could be reversed. She withdrew and his grasp tightened on her, muttering a request for just a moment longer. Her heart softened at the plea and she punctuated it with a soft kiss on his forehead, feathering the deep wrinkles above his brows with an apology for his suffering. He pulled away and his heart spilled with adoration for her,
He closed her palm, savoring the texture of her fingers while tucking his wolf's jaw necklace in her grasp. His shattered smile was the last look he gave to her as he stepped off of the stairs of the alter, leaving her and Dorian to get back to the past. His heart hardened with resolve and determination etched on his features, brows furrowing and his lips pursed as his actions would ensure her safety.
She opened her hand and crumbled at the sight of the wolf's jaw necklace, tears falling upon the gift while she traced the tooth with a finger. Her heart called to him as the door to the hall slammed shut and she regretted letting him go. Dorian's hands swirled with magic as he tried to crack the code to return home, the sounds of fighting drawing dangerously closer with each second. Her fingers stabbed the wolf's tooth at the sound of Solas's struggled gasping, followed by the bloodied choking of his death rattle. Iron bull died laughing at his enemies and no doubt gave them struggle before his body fell, his words marked with a sputter as his throat was slit.
The blast of the door startled her and she watched in horror as demons dragged in the body of the elf and the qunari, both pale and both dead. Blood trickled from her fingers as she looked on at the demons with rage boiling, she gritted her teeth and dropped the necklace to draw her daggers. Her blood laced the teeth of the blade and she felt her spine tingle, the static sensation from her spine spread across her back with a snap and she witnessed a bolt of lightning plant into a distant enemy while her hands sparked. She prepared to jump into the fray until Dorian yanked her away from the thought. His stifled laugh cut all thoughts of her revenge short as the portal swirled with compliance, she couldn't contain the grin on her face until she realized she was no longer holding Solas's necklace. She struggled to break away from Dorian, succeeding after accidently elbowing him in the nose. She stretched her body, finger nails grazing against the twine of the necklace just as they were pulled into the vortex of green.
The travel discombobulated her as they were spit back out moments after when they first left. She seized her hand against her heart as she vigorously peered around the room, fearing the demons were encroaching on them by the second. It took the strong grip of Dorian's hand on her shoulder to ground her but nothing could prevent the trembling in her hands. Dorian was forced to hold his nose as he spoke to Alexius, fearing of a nose bleed dampen the grandeur of the success. The magister relented and accepted his fate gracefully, however Lavellan struggled to understand the events around her, her mind becoming foggy. She could see Solas's blue eyes from afar, soft and full of concern at her distress, but her thoughts shadowed with fears that they were held by the dead body of the Elven mage.
The decision of what to do with the mages fell upon her, one that would change the direction of the inquisition and possibly the events of the world; and she could barely keep it together in her mind, she chastised herself. She allied fully with the mages without any hesitation and the king said his farewells. She was left wondering when he arrived in the first place, but resolved that her stupor clouded these things for her. A new hand against her shoulder resulted in her spinning on her heels, with daggers drawn in defense as she peered onward to Solas. He raised his hands slightly and he was speaking to her, but the rush of blood against her ears made the words garbled. She couldn't hear him, no matter how many times she asked him to repeat and this caused panic to only rise in her chest.
Her eyes were wild as she sheathed her daggers and bolted from the scene, chest pounded so hard she feared it would break her ribs. She dashed around the side of the chantry and climbed up the steep mountain hill behind, counting her steps as she ascended the slope. The heat radiated off of her, feeling as though her blood had been ignited with gatlok powder. As she reached a flat edge of the hill, she scrambled to sit under neath a tree and plant her face against the soothing cold of the snow. She tried to count her heart beats but it was flushed from her eyes as her brain drowned her with images of Solas dead and then back to the faces of the dead at the conclave. She lost herself to her mind's violent repetition of destruction and all she could do was whisper words of the Mir Da'len Somniar to the snowflakes.
The afternoon slipped into early evening before she was able to stumble back down the mountains, having collected herself. There was still the fog lingering in her foresight as she ran into Solas, and he held her tight by the arms while he peered down at her with unspoken questions. She didn't even realize she was crying until he broke his hold to wipe a tear from her cheek. She burst with locked emotion and apologized about the suffering his alter had endured, spilling into how macabre he looked and lastly about how he gave his necklace to her. Solas's eyes flickered with surprise at the information and he was left blank with words. She then tearfully told him how she dropped it, and how guilty it made her feel. He shook his head, a soft curve in his lips as he pulled her closer. He traced her spine and ran the other hand through her short locks of hair, desperately wanting to end her qualms with a kiss. Finally her trembles subsided and she calmed down enough to pull away from the mage, who was slow to release her. His fingers lingered on her waist while he leaned forward and pressed a kiss into her forehead, and she found that this gesture was more help than any words that could be said to her.
Ara seranna-ma: "Excuse me,"
Penshra Ghilas vellathan: politely translated as "I prefer that you remain close"
Masal din'an.: a threat, meaning unknown
