The chantry in Haven was full of little alcoves and hidden rooms. It was a strange building to say the least, one that had been built and rebuilt so many times it was likely four times the size it appeared to be if you could find the way to access the different rooms and levels. One of them was a oft forgotten library full of nothing but personal writings from many years prior. Including the never spoken of cult that had originally been found at Haven when the Warden Commander had first traipsed through. Some of those villagers had taken to writing things down, a sort of penance.
This was the room to go to if you didn't wish anyone to find you. An all but forgotten archive.
"You're hiding." It was soft voice. Even. Unlike the speaker's general tones this was the rich timbre of the man who had been a brother to the chant, not a high ranking fool who fell into corruption and politics. Roderick was an unpopular man, to say the least. Much of Haven disliked the Chantry leader and the remarks of Roder-Dick were well spread. Indeed he was something of a doomsayer but though he was...against..the herald, putting it mildly, he had not chased Tavaiya away from the chantry's library. Indeed in this tiny forgotten room with only the light of the lit lantern in the corner, it seemed he left much behind in the halls.
"I am." Tavaiya agreed and closed the tome she had been looking through. It was a worn thing, less hymns and history than it was a personal journal. There were many of those from the various devout souls in all the chantry's of Thedas. Sometimes, there was true bits of wisdom hidden within. That the brothers and sisters of the chantry were often the only educated ones found outside the nobility was common sense. Tavaiya had learned not to sneer at any source of information. No matter how much she had to read the chant of light. The tales here though, of those souls led astray by a cult were often more raw and fascinating to her. The same strange pull to look upon a scene of tragedy often had her cracking open these tales in their unsteady written letters.
"Why?" Roderick steepled his hands, watching her quietly. He was not opposed to the presence of the rogue, for she may have not been one of the faithful but at least she did not see it beneath her to assist in sweeping and tending the chantry when asked. Indeed, often if she was restless he had started to see her seeking solace, and perhaps avoiding the eyes of some of the Herald's most favored party members, within the walls. And she had information he was always..curious on.
"I don't know. I'm restless but not to leave Haven. Perhaps it is just that there are too many soldiers, too few females and elves..and to seek out Tam means a great deal of attention." The elf replied, setting the journal back and turning to give her full attention. Not for the first time, Roderick watched as her body language shifted towards attentive. Her disdain, casual not sneering, of the chant was hardly new. Still she had granted him more respect for his age than even the Seeker and Nightingale, both having been firmly in the pocket of the last divine, did. His age, his experience, when tempered away from the repetition of the chant and his ego, would be listened to. It allowed Roderick to be a different elder to the knife ear and it was not unwelcome. It made him feel like there were no adornments save the Maker's sun upon his robe and his hair was not yet grayed. Back when trying to help others find their own way into the chant's illumination had been the pinnacle of his delight.
"...Are you still willing to explain further, the aberrations of your..former employer?" Roderick asked as he seated himself in one of the hard wooden chairs in the room. There was a pause, a measuring look..and once more he felt the frisson of fear crawling up his spine. There was something to the tilt of her head, the clearness of her gaze that told him this rogue knew of what he did not speak.
Despite that fear though, since it stayed unvoiced it was almost a lessening of the yoke upon his frail shoulders. For that alone Roderick was willing to seek out the elusive rogue when she haunted the halls of the dismal chantry in Haven. That, and the chance he could somehow bring her to see the light or at least hear the chant echo in her own heart. That was always a worthy goal.
"Very well." Tavaiya leaned against the cold stone of the wall and crossed her arms. Her voice was detached, soft, even. "Elan was a weak mage as I had mentioned. He did not have much in the way of tempting dreams, for though he would be a conduit it apparently was not a welcome one even for demons. The common thought is that any mage would be eagerly hounded by a vast array of the horrors but it seems much as we may turn up our noses at the spoiled and maggot ridden meals even upon all but the most ardent of starvation, so too did the demons to a weak mage. Perhaps they feared being trapped, separation from their own powers. I am no mage so I cannot fathom the reasoning.."
Tavaiya paused.
"Please."
She chuckled and continued. A part of her mind wondered just how little any outside of the room would believe that this man who so often spewed vitriol was willing to listen to her, to her speak of a non devout Andrastian mage and the frankly sacrilegious words that she had repeated so often to him. Roderick was not fooling her, but she had no gain at this time for exposing him. He probably felt he was doing her a service, a confessional of sorts in telling of how she had aided and abetted two apostates until this date.
The faintest scent of currants, like a young port wine, betrayed him. Roderick was a truly weak mage. The sort who maybe would struggle even to snap up a light in a dark room but still aware of the pressure of the fade. Likely he came into awareness very late and saw in his pious twisted nature a better use serving the chant of light than in bowing to a circle where he would be fortunate if considered even useful enough to render tranquil. It should be impossible for her to know he was magical, so she once more ran over the truths of her mother and Elan. How Elan never drew attention from demons really because he wasn't desirable. How though he learned control and mastery over the cup of magic he held it was in the more physical he pursued action. The few snippets of wisdom her mother had actually shared about the training a Keeper and the first and second may have undergone were much more fragmented but that too she spoke of.
Being owed a favor by a man like Roderick, and having a secret to blackmail him with could only be useful. In the interim, until she needed such leverage, there were worse things than bringing comfort to an old man. Eventually she took a seat in the other chair, and Roderick was content to answer her questions on the discrepancies in the various versions of the chant and how it may have come about. It was in the end, History.
()()()()()()()()(()
Tam found her that evening as she was heading into the Tavern. He did not hesitate to grab Tavaiya's arm, she'd flicked her eyes over him so it wasn't as if he was startling her. He knew better than to do that, ending up on his back with a knife at his throat was hardly pleasant. "I want you to come with us to Val ..." He trailed off, hating how badly he butchered the Orleisian words and felt his shoulders sag in relief as she just nodded.
"Okay."
In the end it was that easy. The difference from asking Solas did not escape Tam. Indeed it brought a grin to his marked face. Where one had all but controlled the conversation and twisted it around so it felt as if he was begging a favor, the other simply yielded. There was no price, perhaps other advantages for Tavaiya but no price, no games. It was sorely missed frankness that Tam adored her all the more for utilizing. Dancing around others and preventing from stepping on their egos was tricky enough. For the rest of the evening he sat at the tavern and drank lightly, listening to Varric's spun tales to an eager audience. Never once did Tavaiya leave his side, and there was just a comfort to her presence that let him feel like Tam. Only Tam of Clan Lavellan, once again. Not the Herald, not someone with a glowing green hand surrounded by shemlen and those whom only a short while ago would have happily heaped verbal and physical abuse towards his kind without separation of him from the group. It often took all he had not to lean into Tavaiya or take her hand.
He settled for drinking beside her and feeling the comfort of knowing he was not the only elf there.
()()()()()
Solas was the first to the stable in the morning. It took very little time to have their mounts ready, and it was indeed a relief to be riding not walking the distance. Though she had not been seen much in Haven, the rogue that Tam so ardently involved in everything did not appear to be suffering from 'light sickness' again and was all teasing smiles and banter. Periodically she'd break out into songs, most in Orleisian but one or two he recognized as Antivan.
"Do you speak that language as well, then?" Solas found himself asking. He wasn't precisely certain of when his mount had so easily caught up to her own, used to being entirely on the tail end of the expedition. Tam was up talking with Varric, all eager hand motions and drawing yet another overly fanciful commentary from the dwarf.
"Not so well as I would like. Language lets me blend, stay unnoticed so I learn the common phrases and songs, middle class and lower first." Tavaiya's eyes locked on his own and he dipped his head. Indeed, he wondered if she had such a mastery of the accented terms of ancient Elvehnan as to this point even his knowledge of Orlais and Antiva had been unable to detect a burr in her accents when she used them.
"You speak three languages then?"
"And a smattering of what the Dalish think they know." She agreed with a grin reminding him of her meandering tale, shared weeks ago about how she felt their information was distorted in time.
"No doubt with as much grace as they manage.."
"Not at all then?"
Solas found himself smirking at her, but her casual dismissal of the scraps of knowledge being hallowed to points that the dalish revered everything backwards, was in turn frustration and relief.
"From being able to hear such words spoken, properly, in the Fade it is not only the pronunciation but the very cadence of the grammar that has changed. The terms. The variation in the way it is spoken. Rough translations would make the scraps preserved seem more like the early prattle of children unable to crawl instead of the lyrical words. Elvhen was meant to be spoken and pieced together with ones own knowledge, to bridge the gap of conversation. It was to the sentences kept what sarcasm is to the simpleton's terms. There is no knowledge without intelligence to glean between."
He paused then, certain he was about to be asked for examples and dreading them. It was giving a peerless vintage wine to a farmer who had never known anything but his own home brewed ale, all the subtleties and nuances lost and ever repetition only all the more dulled into nothing more than mere words. Tam hounded after him, ever the proverbial dog and wolf that would amuse the First far too much if he knew. He did not expect the rogue to humm and then nod.
"I would do more harm than good to learn then. Without knowing enough of the views of culture, reasoning, what was considered important..it would be calling a flower yellow petals instead of daffodil or knowing the difference in a rose as symbolism. Yes?"
"Exceptionally astute of you."
"It's a great pity then, to be unable to witness so much of the Fade as you have." Those blue eyes met his own and the sly smile was absent, instead it was true wistfulness. Hidden to a great deal but the softness around her eyes and the tilt of her shoulders betrayed the rogue as much as the quiet of her tone. "It must be like having the most immense library at your fingertips and no worries of mistranslations.."
"You are a lover of the written word then?"
"Oh.." Tavaiya laughed and grinned, but her ears were a vibrant pink even if her cheeks stayed unblemished. Curious. She had taught herself not to blush. There was only so much one could do about elven biology however. "It was the first thing I learned. Reading in other languages, then to pronounce it. I often mistake how to do so for it because I am one to delve into the elder texts when knowledge was hard won and precious. I'm under no illusions that I am exceptionally fortunate to have been afforded an education, Solas."
And it was the truth. Even in ancient Arlathan the slaves were not taught to read, not truly. They knew only what was needed, many of the well to do and warriors did not bother with it, only those who sought knowledge for it's own sake, who delighted in wisdom and pursuits of the mind had been educated. When magic came as easy as breath and great feats were instinct, what need had one to record? That was where the sculptures and arts came into play. One would spend a century or two in discussion over subjects not write them down and be unable to give examples and tales. It was a sign of the quickened lives that they needed to write down such information because their masters would otherwise be lost long before their spiritual successors emerged from the womb.
Solas felt fear then as she hummed. He had spoken that aloud. Swiftly he reviewed his words and slowly relaxed. Nothing damning had been revealed and 'learned it in the Fade' was often forgiven as first person experience. Still, his comfort in telling her such things troubled him.
More, he greatly disliked how easily telling her came because she did not argue and judge but listen, and then let his secrets remain still without disturbing the waters. She did not test if the surface hid only a shallow pond or the deepest fathoms of the ocean. It was less her being unaware of the obvious trails and more a deliberate lack of pursuit. It made the rogue..strange.
Sighing Solas tried tackling the topic head first in an attempt to see why she side stepped so easily, to reveal a trick of her mental process. "You do not seem to press for further answers when I tell you things."
"You enjoy telling me of your experiences, you love the Fade and your history. If it was something you wished to speak of you would, I see no reason to pester you when I am grateful for what you are willing to tell me. The last time I pleaded you avoided me for a time."
Solas raked his gaze over her but she was looking ahead, eyes flitting about and it was a common enough sight now he thought nothing of it. It had certainly been proven that Tavaiya was an asset to have among them. Even in the back of the line she often detected cues that had them prepared long before any should have an inkling of upcoming battles.
"I was not aware you so valued my tales."
Now her eyes locked with him and that predator he had not glimpsed in weeks shifted. So often it slumbered deep within her, save in battle. It had made Solas more wary and seeing it back out was something familiar. This was an old game he knew to play. Circling adversaries.
Her lips twisted into a smirk.
"You know. You just don't particularly like me. A willing ear is the best of my faults to your perception."
"The capabilities you have proven to avoid ambush are not to be forgotten." He said but it was an agreement.
"Do you suspect me so greatly of being against you, and Tam, for your magic?"
Solas gave the question thought. Was he wary of the woman? Immensely. He cautioned the Herald to be the same because she had no magic but she was so familiar with it that for some reason he saw it as that most twisted series of arts he had once seen. There had been attempts back in Tevinter before Shartan rose up for mages to have their power stolen. It had never worked, but he had never properly trusted those without a connection to the fade since.
"Yes." He finally answered and heard her humming.
"I have spent my life around mages, weak though they are. I have no magic, I never shall. I do not understand it but the difference from the layperson is I feel no need to. I do not see every mage as a potential abomination..though we did certainly see how much I loathed them.." And that was the crux of it. When he had first wondered if she wasn't a danger. When her ruthlessness had reached a new fervor before his eyes and it had clearly startled her when regarding the aftermath.
"Your magic is a tool. A part of you." She shrugged. "My body, my weapons, my mind..these are my tools. The difference is only that my blades can be more easily stripped off of me. Yet this does not make me a potential serial murderer of the innocent any more than your using magic as the tool of choice to bend reality to your needs and desires does render you an abomination. I am willing to trust in your strength of will to not falter in such a way and then put it from my thoughts as a possibility."
Truth rang in her words and Solas inclined his head. He would not apologize but he would acknowledge her reasoning.
"You avoid healing."
"It seems a waste of mana." She waved her hand dismissively. "Poultices and potions have to this point more than sufficed as much as a good meal and rest."
"Convenient." He had not misread her, he knew this. She did not want his magic to heal her and until then he would remain suspicious.
The woman locked eyes with him again and smirked. "By all means than, Solas...work your magic on me when you feel so driven. Though I've no doubt the build up in your mind is far more exciting than reality." She laughed then at her play on terms and Solas felt his own lips curve in a smirk. She deflected it easily, but permission was still given.
The next time she so much as had a scrape, he would indeed take her up on that and settle his doubts. He had too many unaccounted for events already without her creating more.
()()()()()
She was an idiot. The moment her flirtatious consensual agreement to being healed was out Tavaiya wanted to hit herself. She did not wish to know what Solas's hoarfrost was like on a more aware level. She did not wish to drown in the taste of honeywine which she already found to be overlaying her palate most days. Usually Tavaiya began to adjust to the senses brought on by others and was able to ignore them like a well worn shirt, not something you felt against your skin unless you focused on it. Solas's magic though poured out of him even restrained as it was and she never seemed to be rid of it. She'd taken to wearing an extra layer under her jerkin because of the constant prickle of hoarfrost when near his company.
Tavaiya recognized the warning signs, though these were far stronger than with Elan. It was why she hadn't wished for him to heal or cast a barrier on her, once her body knew the pattern to his magic it would seek him out. She spent too long living in tandem with a mage to not feel the loss of ever present magic and though Tam was far more her usual. One could not ignore Solas.
Well, there was no help for it. She would learn, and adapt as a good rogue did.
()()()()()
It took two days before they were almost at Val Royuex and the bandits descended upon them in such an immense wave that it was clearly a leak in Leliana's lines and someone had prepared the ambush.
Spells were flung, weapons flashed, throats slit and arrows fired. There was no art, but a clumsy series of long drawn out events that left Tam and Solas wearied, Cassandra leaning on her weapon, Varric grumbling as he gathered arrows.
And a frowning Tavaiya who shook her head and dragged off one who lived with a curt bark of 'Don't follow. And don't come when you hear the screams."
Tam had paled at that. It had nothing on when she came back thirty long minutes later and there was new blood on her face, her hands wiping off her blade as she sighed. "We should press on immediately. There was a bounty put out. It's not safe to camp."
"We ride then. Fast." Cassandra agreed and the lot was on the move. Rarely was Tam not consulted, but in this Cassandra would not have budged so they all stayed silent.
Solas didn't miss the way the rogue was reaching towards her side at times as they rode and during a single stop to pass out rations gulp down food and stretch legs, he tied his mount and walked beside her.
"You are injured." He did give her privacy in keeping his voice low. Tavaiya's eyes cut over to Solas and slowly she nodded her agreement.
"Bruising. No time to strip enough to apply anything."
Solas lifted his fingers, a challenge in his eyebrow. It reminded her of the dare back in the Hinterlands. That same coil of hoarfrost around her made Tavaiya's eyes drop.
So it came to this. He waited to see what she would do. Whether her word was of any worth.
()()()()()
"If you have the energy to spare, please." The plea was gentle, not begging but simply a request. Certainly there was no trace of fear, reluctance yes but he could pass that off easily. The moment of truth upon him Solas placed his hand against her ribs, though layers of leather and cloth separated him from her injury the probing of his magic found it easily. Truly, that she'd stayed silent with the crack in one rib and the heavy bruising along most her side was impressive. She'd apparently taken a bad hit from a shield, probably when going in for a coup de grace and considered it worth the risk. Not a flinch was evident as his magic, and he used a bit more than needed so it would glow just a touch brighter, be more palpable to her, yet if anything she sighed in relief. As any would.
Solas began to pull his powers back and then paused. For a second it had almost seemed like an echoing vibration but his eyes blurred and he mumbled a curse. Downing a mouthful of Lyrium he shook his head. Clearly he had not judged his weakened abilities as well as he thought. "Better?"
"Thank you." And Tavaiya chuckled then, before giving him a slow lazy smile, one that was all promises that hinted at exertion and long limbs bared. There was a slight roll of her neck on her shoulders as she stretched, if not in armor it would have been a languid movement meant to tease, perhaps invite. "You've quite the touch, Solas."
He rolled his eyes at her childishness even as he fought a smile at the terribly joking tease, he had learned by now she never meant any of it. Still, his worries had lessened a good deal. Granting her a nod he then gulped down some water before they mounted once more and set off again at the fastest pace they dared.
()()()()()()
Tavaiya couldn't tell how relieved she was they were riding hard, in the dark of night. Because she still felt the drumbeat in time to her pulse, the crackle of his power had electrified her nerves and made the back of her head feel like someone had just let off a blaze. Her awareness had shifted.
Honeywine and hoarfrost had eased up and now there was the constant knowledge of his drumming power, in cadence with the anchor Tam carried. There was a mystery there, perhaps just fade magic, but she resolutely turned her thoughts aside from it.
The drums were changing the rhythm of her pulse. Only slightly. It was a little longer now, a little slower. She'd have never noticed it if she was anyone else. Passed it off as a side effect of being healed, a real one that would fade in time. She knew better.
What sort of power did the apostate have that only an incidental healing made her strange other sense start to alter her awareness of him yet again? It was as if she was discovering a sense she did not have before..feeling a secondary nervous system that only related to her other senses, regarding mana. Her fingers tingled and she didn't dare down one of her vials to dull her senses, not after the ambush. But the very first chance she had she would be doing just that.
()()()()()()()
Val Royuex was a cluster fuck.
There was a grandstanding cleric, A rude Lord Seeker who treated Cassandra like a leper. At some point she was only too relieved when Tam insisted they divide and conquer and she just needed a nap. A long one.
"Tavaiya you.."
"I'm going to go see if I can't make some connections, Tam." She interrupted. "Trust me, it's worth it."
There was a lot of doubt sent her way but the rogue just shrugged. "This I am good at. Don't do anything stupid, don't agree to anything, and meet me at that stupidly expensive place you booked for the night. I will be back long before evening falls. I suggest you do the same." She flickered her fingertips over the curve of her ear as an example. Solas and Tam both caught the motion and while Solas's eyes went cold and he nodded, Tam frowned. It didn't matter, she'd just warned them that being elves here was dangerous after hours.
"Where are you going?" Varric asked as he looked curious. "I wouldn't even know where to begin in a place like this."
"Alienage." She answered and grinned. "Most elves in Orlais are thieves, in Antiva they are assassins. They still live in the Alienage and I've spent enough time bunking with them, that going and telling Elan has died will get me some tongues wagging."
Varric frowned. His gaze serious as his fingers moved in a clumsy rogue's language. It was dreadfully out of favor because while it could be learned you had to know the person well enough to interpret what they were saying. Not so unlike what Solas claimed of ancient Elvhen.
'You will be okay without backup?'
Her own fingers flew in the patterns, twisting and dipping and making them seem more like two fish wives bickering over the cost of an old trout. 'Very suspicious group. Only elves and with these two they'd draw attention.'
Varric snorted a laugh. 'Savage and sneering? No!' What he signed was more like rabid and constipated but that was where interpretation helped.
Tavaiya chuckled. "I'll be fine. Meet you back in the room. Let me know which by cracking the window or leaving a mark?" Varric nodded and Tavaiya waved to the others before turning and slipping into an alley.
The underbelly awaited her.
()()()()()
