Chapter 8
He could always tell when something or someone else had created the world around him in the Fade. Currently, he was walking up to a small farmhouse. A human woman called out to someone he couldn't see, and then he realized that a small human, no, an elven man was walking beside him. The man was a mage, but used the staff like a walking stick. What surprises him most is the young girl that is running towards them.
"Father, you're home!" She squealed, and leaped for the man at his left. The man spins her around a few times, and sets her down. "Come on, Father! Mom made those cakes again, and she won't let me have one till you get in the house. So, come on!"
"Ah, I see how it is now. I'm being used for sweets." The man remarked, pretending to be put out. He burst out laughing when the little girl nodded enthusiastically. "I'll be in in a moment. I need to talk to someone first."
"Okay. I'll go torture Carver! He's been an ab-sol-lute tit since you've been gone." The girl said, smiling wickedly before she ran off.
"Be nice to your brother!" The man called after her, and then sighed. "I swear that girl is more than a handful sometimes…You can talk to me, you know. I did call you here, after all."
"You are Alhasha's father then." Solas replied, in realization.
"Yes." The man stated. "Though you are the first one to call her Alhasha to me. That is good. It means she trusts you enough with her name. Mind me asking how you managed that? I always introduced myself as Hawke, so that is what she did. You can call me Malcolm, by the way, so things don't get confusing."
"I…she…She tricked me." Solas admitted. "The mark on her ankle gave her the knowledge of how I am. It's the only explanation I have."
"You mean arrogant and prideful?" Malcolm said, interrupting him.
"Do you want to hear how she tricked me or not?" Solas asked, causing her father to grin sheepishly. "She knew who I was, but wouldn't tell me how she knew that, and I didn't think about the mark…too arrogant and prideful to even consider it, I suppose…There's this grin she has…It was like she was hunting me instead, and I…I'm sorry, I don't feel comfortable talking about this with you. You're her father."
"It's a bit late to be bashful, don't you think?" Malcolm asked, chuckling.
"She…stole a kiss…after tricking me into jumping into the hot springs." Solas admitted, looking anywhere else. "She told me her name when I demanded it. I later found out that she stole the kiss as a last request, because she thought I was there to kill her." Malcolm burst out laughing.
"That's just too funny," Malcolm remarked, coming down from his laughter finally.
"Why did you call me here?" Solas asked, looking to the man.
"You're ignoring her, and I want to know why." Malcolm asked, frankly.
"I'm not…at least not anymore…sort of…Alright, I kind of still am, but…I'm thinking things through…There is a lot to consider, and deciding this is not easy." Solas stated, looking at the area around them. "I always thought that I would have to set aside any personal wants until after my mistakes were corrected. She makes me question everything, and she doesn't hate me. After everything I've done, how could she not hate me? She looks at me like she understands, like she would have done the same."
"You really have been thinking about this, haven't you?" Malcolm asked, in realization.
"Of course, I've been thinking about it. Even when I ignore her, I can't really succeed at it for long." Solas said, frustrated and annoyed. "She should try to be with someone else. I can not give her that little cottage on the hillside."
"You're assuming that's what she wants." Malcolm stated, making Solas look over at him in confusion. "If she had wanted that kind of life, she could have easily married one of those frivolous dandies my wife tried to set her up with when they got to Kirkwall. She chose to fight, to free a city, to save her friends and family when she could. She would choose you, if you let her."
"If she's with me, she would be hunted and hated. The world would think her a betrayer." Solas said, shaking her head. "You can not possibly want that for her."
"How easily you forget. She is already hunted and hated. The world already thinks her a betrayer." Malcolm reasoned.
"It would be worse." Solas argued.
"You sound like a man trying to make excuses." Malcolm noted, bringing Solas up short. "What's the real reason you're so hesitant about her?"
"She should not want to be with me. She should not want what that means." Solas said, trying to block out everything. "I do not deserve her."
"Don't you think that's her choice then?" Malcolm asked, surprising him. "You're not the one that gets to decide if you deserve her, she is; and if she's willing to go through all of that for your stubborn ass, you should be willing to go through all of that for her, instead of ignoring her as you have been to try and make her hate you. Yeah, I know about that too."
" Come on, you. I need you for prank business." Sera declared, looping her arm into Hawke's as if to steal her away.
"Oh? Who is it this time?" Hawke asked, glad for the distraction.
"Everyone." Sera replied, conspiratorially.
The two had a blast setting up pranks all over the place. For Cullen, Sera suggested something brilliant. He was such a man of order, that simply unbalancing the chair just a touch would annoy him to no end. The best part is he wouldn't be able to tell for weeks, if at all. For good measure, Hawke rearranged the books in his shelves in a slightly different order every few books or so.
For Montilyet, Hawke actually suggested something magic based, which Sera wasn't interested in till Hawke explained. Montilyet was always about those reports, letters, and everything in between. So, Hawke suggested putting a spell on a stack of paper that would make anything written on it disappear after a few minutes, and reappear hours later. Sera begrudgingly admitted to liking it, but suggested they up the ante for Solas, something magic based so he'd notice but not be able to do anything about. Hawke's answering grin was absolutely feral.
For Solas, she suggested a bucket with water placed over the opening door to his building. It didn't seem like much, but Hawke explained that the bucket would always be supplied with water every time it was tipped, and that it would disappear once tipped and reappear at random times and locations throughout his small building. Sera was a little surprised, but laughed outright about the whole thing. As much as she feared magic, Hawke made it fun for her. The way she figured it, Hawke could always just kiss him till he forgave her and eventually dispel the bucket. There was also the added chance now that she could get hit by the spell too.
For Dorian, the two women set up drawers that would shoot out tons of glitter. These were conveniently the drawers he kept his wine stashes in. The play on words between that and Varric's nickname for the Tevinter mage just made things hilarious for them. For Varric, Hawke just put a spell on his quill, ink, and paper in order that no ink would stick to the pages. She included his backup quills in this, in case he switched anything out.
Sera really really wanted to shave Blackwall's beard in his sleep, but even Hawke didn't think they could pull that one off. So they opted to add a kind of hair removal solution to his shampoo. The Iron Bull was a tough one to figure out, but they finally worked out a prank that would suit him. Sera opted to putting beehives into the training dummies. Bull was always over there anyway, and it was widespread enough that a few others could fall into it too.
For Vivienne, Sera went and found some more of those poisonous lizards. It is what Vivienne would expect of her. Meanwhile, Hawke decided to put some kind of scentless adhesive inside that horned hat she wore sometimes, and sprayed a bit of it onto her pillow too. They each set off a bunch of lemon cleaning bombs in the room, just in case the adhesive wasn't completely scentless. They also made no effort to hide their laughter from her as they ran around the chantry, considering that she would know it was them anyway.
"Thanks, Sera. I needed this." Hawke admitted, once they'd finally gotten everything completed.
"You've lost someone important, and getting angry this time won't help, but a laugh always does." Sera replied. "So, you and Solas?"
"It's too new, Sera. I'm not even sure if we're a thing or not." Hawke tried to explain, not quite knowing how to put it into words. "Half the time he still ignores me, or doesn't know what to say."
"I've seen how he looks at you. You're in it, yeah?" Sera said, and then snickers. "Probably shouts elven glory when he does it. Drop 'em and rebuild the empire. Phwaor!"
"Sera!" Hawke exclaims, laughing so hard she can't seem to breathe. "We've not…I haven't…Sera!"
"You being both kinds, though. You think he'll have a problem?" Sera asked, as they made their way back to the Chantry.
"I don't know. I hadn't thought about it." Hawke admitted. "Maybe? I don't know. I don't know why he should."
"You tell 'em!" Sera exclaimed, happily. "You're a good one, Birdy."
From that moment on, Hawke had known that the conversation was coming. He had distanced himself again, for what reason she did not know, but inquisition business meant that happened from time to time anyway. His prank had been a bit anticlimactic, dispelling it himself the second it triggered the first time, not even giving it a chance to disappear. That made her think of the other pranks, and how Sera had helped her get out of her sadness for a bit. The girl was an odd duck, but that was what made Sera…Sera.
Varric was still trying to figure out what had happened to his things, having ordered new stationary and everything to get rid of the problem. It has been weeks, and Cullen still couldn't figure out why something felt off, complaining about it as he mumbled to himself. Montilyet hadn't quite figured out the mess with her papers. Neither of the women had wanted to test Liliana, so nothing had happened to her. Both the Iron Bull, and Cullen found the bees…and while the Iron Bull laughed and went on, Cullen was not happy.
The look on his face though, was priceless, and his men learned never to laugh at him again. Dorian had refused pointblank to laugh at his, though he did shake as he chuckled silently when he thought they weren't looking. Blackwall…was…pissed. He had discovered his hair coming out in chunks, only to learn his shampoo had been sabotaged. The beard remained unaffected, much to Sera and Hawke's dismay.
Vivienne couldn't even be mad at hers. The decoy of the poisonous lizards had worked, after all, and she hadn't questioned why the room smelled of lemons, assuming they'd pulled some odd kind of cleaning prank. Sera and Hawke laughed every time they saw her, when she discovered that she could not take off her hat. She'd gone to bed that night, thinking of ways to remove it, not wondering if anything else had been tampered with. Finding that her pillow was now stuck to her hat?…Priceless.
Here lately though, things seemed to be drawing to a close. Hawke wondered what would happen after that, and found herself standing before the Breach in silent study. There was something so strange about it, as if it called to her. It didn't, but there were whispers there all the same. She could almost touch it, the magic reaching out to react to her lyrium or her own magic, she did not know.
In the fade again…
"How did you know?" Solas asked, not even waiting, when he realized who had called him to this part of the Fade. "How did you know that everything would work out?"
"I didn't, but the risk was there to take, so I took it." Malcolm replied. "You're an immortal being, and this is what worries you?"
"Are you making fun of me?" Solas asked, in disbelief. These Hawke's were something else.
"I'm dead, and the father to the woman you're interested in. What are you going to do?" Malcolm asked, arching an eyebrow at him. He had a point.
"What do you suggest I do then?" Solas asked, giving up trying to be angry at this. "She's just as stubborn as me."
"Then you should know exactly how to go about winning her over." Malcolm replied, with a grin that reminded Solas of Alhasha. "Surely you know how to get around your own defenses, or do you just ignore the flaws in them and hope that they will go away?"
"Have you given a thought to that? To what I am? You said so yourself. I'm an immortal being. How exactly is a relationship between her and I suppose to work?" Solas asked, grasping at straws now.
"Surely you've lived long enough to realize that love finds a way around such boundaries." Malcolm replied, like it was easy. "Besides, you weren't born immortal were you? It was realized within your original lifetime. Wasn't it?"
That was something that they had forgotten, or chosen to ignore, long ago. They were not invincible, but they were immortal, meaning they could be killed but could not die of natural means. Had he just said love? In all the time that Solas had been ignoring her, and then…not ignoring her, he had not considered that she had already wormed her way into his very being. Then again, why else would he be looking for a mabari pup for her?
"Love…" Solas said, his voice trailing off, and sat down. He had not considered this.
"Well what else did you think was happening to you?" Malcolm asked, chuckling. "Now, get going, and quit making excuses."
Solas woke with a start, and looked around…Had her father actually kicked him out of the Fade to get him to talk to her? Shit, these Hawke's really were something else, the gaul of them. That man had talked about love as if it should have been the most obvious thing in the world to him. So Solas decided to walk to the Breach, passing several outposts on the way, in an effort to clear his mind.
That is how he found her, the object of his thoughts, cautiously testing the Breach, reaching out to it to feel the magic on her skin, and he knew instantly that clearing his mind was out of the question now. She looked absolutely ethereal as wispy green tendrils caressed her skin, igniting the lyrium in a soft blue glow. He has had the time, during one of the Herald's missions to the one of the farthest rifts, to think on what was revealed to him; not to mention those random Fade visits from her father. She is half one thing, half the other, and he can not understand how they can coexist in one being; yet there she stands, cautious and humble, tall and proud, existing peacefully as she is. He realizes her father is right, and can almost hear the man laughing at him in his mind.
"Ina'lan'ehn." Solas says, softly. Beautiful. She slowly turns to face him with a smile, her hand no longer reaching towards the breach, and her glow slowly dimming until it is gone. "Why do you reach for things that others choose to run from?"
"Flemeth gave me a good bit of advice once." Alhasha replied, slowly making her way to him as he was to her. "'The world fears the inevitable plummet into the abyss. Watch for that moment, and when it comes, do not hesitate to leap. It is only when you fall that you learn whether you can fly.' Of course, she could shift into the form of a dragon, so…I'm not sure I should take her advice when it comes to leaping into things, or flying…"
"That must explain why you constantly run at something like you're part of the vanguard." Solas teased, with a pleasant smile. "I have met no other mage that does this."
"I was doing that before. Strange things constantly happen in my life. I had to adapt or die." She said, putting it simply. "That just led to even crazier things. Suddenly I'm the Champion of Kirkwall, unwilling spark that ignited the Mage rebellion, and Fen'Harel still isn't sure he wants to flirt with me or not."
"I would like to know more about these strange things that happen to you." Solas replied, half asking, as the two sat on a bit of rock nearby. Her last comment was teasing, but it had a tinge of truth to it that he knew hurt her. "Tell me about your parents. How did they meet?"
"The way Father told it, it was love at first sight." She explained. "The Circle he was a part of at the time was visiting Kirkwall, performing for some of the dignitaries, when he saw her. He told me it was like the crowd parted just for them. He found that this beautiful human woman called to his soul. To him, she was exotic. They ran away together…Listen, about the prank…"
"Sera's way of trying to cheer you up, no doubt." Solas stated, putting her at ease. "It is strange to know that she is the farthest from what she should be, and yet her heart is the closest it could ever hope to be."
"Don't tell her that. She might implode." Alhasha said, with a snort. Her expression saddened, as if she'd thought of something unpleasant. "Solas…"
"I occasionally go on 'walkabouts' when I find that my travels keep me in large groups of people like this." Solas explained, hoping the lie would hide what he was really doing. He did not need her discovering his plan just yet. "It has been some time since I have had someone to worry about me or miss me when I'm gone. My apologies, Alhasha."
"It's not that…It's just that I…Well, I…I feel like such a liar…I really should have told you this before…" She admitted. She held up her right wrist, holding out an incredibly tiny chain out for him to see. "Do you know what this is?"
"This is …Alhasha… this is age progression illusionary magic…highly advanced. Wonderful work." Solas said, admiring the piece. "Why are you wearing this?"
"Father gave it to me before he died, said that I would need to lead the family. Since I was the youngest, he made me this. Bethany was too passive to lead, Carver had too big of a block on his shoulders, and Mother would be too deep in her grief." She explained, fiddling with the bracelet, not meeting his eyes anymore. "I was twelve when we made it into Kirkwall, thirteen when Varric met me…he doesn't know that. I need to tell him…sixteen when I had to face down the Arishok, nineteen when Anders destroyed the Chantry…I'm not really sure how old I am now, on the run for so long, I kind of lost track…my best guess is twenty one, maybe older. I just…Everyone needed me to be something for them, and after a while…I've worn it for years…Fenris was the only one who knew."
"Was he aware of it when you first met him?" Solas asked, curious.
"Not at first, and when I told him, he was beyond angry. Considering his previous history with mages, it wasn't a surprise to me that he'd get mad, and he was really mad." Alhasha replied. "After he calmed down, though, he made me a deal. Teach him things free men were suppose to know, and I could hang out at his place and just be me without the bracelet. We looked out for each other after that. He became my brother."
"Will you show me what you look like without it?" Solas found himself asking.
"You aren't mad?" She asked, confused, finally looking back up at him. "I've been hiding things from you while insisting that you not hide things from others!"
"Alhasha, you have always been worthy to know my secrets. That is, I believe, why you know them already. The spell that lead me to you would have given you access to them somehow, in an effort to combat my stubborn nature, no doubt. That part of myself has not changed much." Solas replied, moving a bit of her hair out of her face. "I have not yet proven myself worthy to know yours. The spell would not have given me access to them."
"When you entered the cell, the mark burned. I was a little too preoccupied to remember half forgotten stories my father told me." Alhasha admitted. "When I touched your face, I saw…images, so many that I couldn't make sense of them all, at the time."
"I had wondered if that was the case." Solas said, thoughtful. "Alhasha, about the bracelet…do you still think you need to wear it?"
"No. It's mostly out of habit now." She replied, playing with the bracelet a little.
He understood now. "This is what you meant by BarkSpawn being the last to remember. He was the last to see the little girl that was given this bracelet. Fenris only saw you once you'd made it Kirkwall. Things had already begun to happen by then."
She nodded, her eyes wide, before looking down at the bracelet again. He could tell this meant a lot to her, a gift from her father. She clinched her eyes closed, and took it off within the same breath. Solas's jaw hit the floor as he watched her hair spill out around her. The charm had hidden more than her age, it had hidden a lot of the wildness that she was.
Not much else had really changed. Life on the run had toned her too well for that. He couldn't stop running his fingers through her hair, like ink running through his fingers. Why the charm had hidden that, he did not know, but all thought fled his mind when she looked back up at him. Her eyes, as bright and deep as lyrium, were even more so now.
"Alhasha…" He said, softly, as he was drawn into them. "I have so…(kiss)…many…(kiss)…more questions…(kiss)…I want to know everything…"
Varric had been hunting for her all day, but it seemed that she had simply vanished. Flint had been hanging around Sera more lately, but not today. She had talked about going up to check out the Breach up close, but she wouldn't…Oh who was he kidding, of course she would. He still had to find Solas for Cullen too.
Thing was, he couldn't find Solas either. Would the fade obsessed elf realize that Flint would be so reckless as to go off on her own like that? He hoped so, otherwise the closed off elf would get a boot up his backside. Maybe he had already gone to the Breach to find her. That seemed likely, and he began to make to trek to the Breach.
Along the way, there were small outposts set up. Each one confirmed that both Flint and then Solas had made their way past them separately. He took comfort in knowing she was safe. He was getting too old for all this running around, or at least he felt like it. He had to stop and take a breath, though almost there, when he heard it.
"What makes you different, I wonder?" That was Solas! "The Herald can pull at the Fade to close the rifts, but what I saw you do…The Fade reached out to you as if you were an old friend."
"Maybe if I had formal Circle training, I could tell you." Good. Flint was okay. "As it is, I run on instinct and sarcasm, if you remember."
"If you were Circle trained, you would not be here as you are to even make a guess." Solas stated. Varric couldn't see them yet, but he could hear the worry and concern for such a fate. "A being such as you would have been made tranquil the moment they realized what you were, what you could do."
"I know…" Flint seemed thoughtful, which was usually dangerous. "Oh, hey, listen. I want to give you something. Satinalia is coming up soon, and I don't even know if it's something you'd care to celebrate, but I have something for you anyway, and I'm impatient when it comes to gift giving. It's silly, I know, and you don't have to accept it, but I hope you do, and-"
"Na'ne eidysardi melahn na vasti." Solas said, with a chuckle.
"I am not adorable, and I do not ramble." Flint denied. "You take that back, right now. I am a fierce and dangerous mage, nothing adorable about that." Varric nearly snorted, practically able to hear her pouting.
"I am sorry, Lath'in. I take it back. You are most certainly not adorable." Solas openly teased. (Wait. He can do that?) "You are …palasha…ir'ina'lan'ehn…ei venuralas'lan… And you do not ramble. You…No, no, I can't take that one back. You really do ramble, Lath'in."
"And here I was thinking about forgiving you too." Flint replied, pretending hurt as she pouts, but that didn't last. "Why call me Lath'in?"
"Because, Alhasha, I have decided. It is what you are to me. You are my Lath'in." Solas answered without hesitation. "Your father has actually been accosting…I mean, talking to me in the Fade, trying to convince me of my folly. He is right. I should not have tried to push you away as I have. It was not for you, to give you a choice to leave, as I tried to tell myself that it was. It was for my own selfishness, my goals, my secrets. I watched and ignored as it hurt you, to keep you just close enough to try and learn of you without getting involved, all while hoping that you would learn to hate me, but I can no longer stand by and do so. I was…I have been an ass. I am sorry I have been so distant since what happened that night. I have had much to think through." (Perhaps his tunic was safer than he thought.)
"Would you still like your gift? It's not time for Satinalia yet, but I thought maybe-" She was already rambling again.
"It is not necessary." Solas replied, though his voice was more of acceptance.
"I think that's why they call them gifts." Flint teased.
Palasha – attractive
ir'ina'lan'ehn – gorgeous
ei venuralas'lan – a goddess
"Point taken, Lath'in." Solas replied, with a grin. Love
He did not know what this would mean for his goals, being with her like this. Some of them had to be completed no matter what, but others…Could he maybe alter them somehow? If what he had to do caused her death, could he live in a world without her in it? He didn't want to test that out in order to know that now.
"It may not hold the weight of the Amell name anymore." Alhasha said, placing something small in his hand. "But anyone who knows the name Hawke will know what that symbol is, and will know what it means for you to have it. If you're ever stranded somewhere without me, and need help, you show them this. If they would help me, they'll help you, if they can."
When she removed her hand from his, he saw what she had given him. In his hand was a small ring, the kind used for stamping letters and such things, with a family crest on it that looked like the lines of two hawks flying. Instantly, he felt guilty. She was willing to help him, even when she didn't know the consequences of her choice. If the process had worked at the conclave, he would never have met her.
"Na shyr te min, sul'ema em min, eolasal ahn Ar ter, ahn Ar nuva tath nuvenin sai te?" He asked, shocked.
You would do this, give me this, knowing what I did, what I may still need to do?
"Vis na'shyr lasa em." She said, softly.
If you'd let me
"Ema ra virajun, Alhasha, Ar shyr tel'uth ema vhellem na. Na tyr vyrordia ema dinem, eil Ar shyr'ne sildearem banal. Na shyr halani em, eolasal ra?" He asked, not understanding. What kind of woman was this?
Had it worked, Alhasha, I would never have met you. You could possibly have died, and I would've felt nothing. You would help me, knowing that?
"Ar sila…Vis Ar halani…nere Ar te'vina mylerol na shyr'tel sila or y…" She replied, a bit nervous.
I think…if I help…maybe I can find solutions you wouldn't think of otherwise…
"Na shyr vor nar melin? Nar vaederarol? Garahnen?" He asked, in disbelief.
You would risk your name? Your reputation? Everything?
"Tamahn ane rahna eirdyr min tiralas ra ane geron si vor…" She said, smiling softly.
There are things about this world that are worth the risk…
"Alhasha…Ar'tel av'ahn saeri rahna or na." He said, shaking his head. She can't really be offering this.
Alhasha…I cannot ask these things of you
"Ra'air ahnsul ra'n lahnem ei en'an'sa." She said, again, as she caressed his jawline.
That's why it's called a gift.
"Lath'in…Ar tel'paeraesi'na…" He hears Solas, as if it is a vow, as if it meant his life.
He hears her whisper something, but can't make out what it is. As it is, he hasn't understood half the conversation anyway. Elvhen was not a language he'd picked up, though Daisy and Flint had tried to teach it to him several many times. He'd only wanted to check to make sure that Flint was safe, and now that he knows she is, he can leave. The only problem is, now he's too close, and they'll hear him leave.
The sounds he can hear her making are a new torture for him. Varric has always viewed his friend as an innocent, and anything shattering that image is bad, even if it wins him a bet. Should he stop them? Should he sit there quietly, and hope that nothing happens? Maybe the Maker will take pity on him, and smite him where he sits.
"On'ala av'ahnan taht." Flint moans. Solas chuckles, but it's muffled somehow, as if his lips are against her skin.
"Lath'in, Na myr'tel nu em mai." Solas says, sounding a lot more predator like than Varric thought he could.
Just what in the Void were they doing? Varric can't stand it anymore, and practically leaps up, either to run away or stop them, but the sight before him makes him freezes him cold. Flint is straddling Solas's lap, with one of his hands up the back of her tunic. The other is securing her head, the elf's fingers entrenched firmly within her hair, while Solas is groaning and nibbling on her neck with great enthusiasm. Flint is clinging to Solas's neck with one hand, tentatively caressing the shell of his ear with the other, gasping under his attentions.
Solas leans back, looking into Flint's eyes with an intensity that Varric never thought he had. It dawns on Varric, just what kind of moment he's interrupting. The standoffish elf must have finally caved! This moment is a confession, an acceptance, and a plea all in one. However, when Flint smiles and begins kissing Solas as if she has taken charge of the situation, Varric decides that this is the limit of his ability to handle any more surprises of this nature.
"What in the Void do you two think you're doing up here?!" Varric can't help the words coming out of his mouth.
"Durgen'len, Na'Masa!" Flint growled, angry and embarrassed, as she quickly stepped away from Solas.
Varric had no idea what that meant, but he was fairly certain that he'd just been insulted. All things considering, it was probably something about him being an ass, he knew he felt like an ass. He had a good idea he knew exactly what they would have been doing in about five minutes too, but now that he'd outed himself, the protective fatherly big brother instincts had been activated. However, he was not counting on Solas to look quite so threateningly angry. Flint sees this, and sighs, before turning back to Varric.
"Just how long were you over there listening in, Dwarf?" Flint asked, still just as angry, tears threatening to spill.
"I just…I didn't mean…No one could find you…I was worried…" Varric tried to say. "Need to talk to Solas."
"Great. You two compare which is bigger, or the if you hurt her speech, and be done with it." Flint growled, making her way past him. "Meanwhile, I'm going to go find a cliff to jump off of. Never been more humiliated in my life. Your name is forever Masa, Dwarf."
Lath'in…Ar tel'paeraesi'na… - Love…I do not deserve you…
On'ala av'ahnan taht – Best interrogating thus far
Lath'in, Na myr'tel nu em mai – Love, you shouldn't tease/hurt me so
Na'Masa – You ass
Masa - Ass
"Are you intentionally being dense, Child of the Stone?" Solas asked, heatedly, very much liking Alhasha's new name for the dwarf. "Did you not check with each outpost to see if we were up here…alone? Were they perhaps smirking, or snickering as you passed?"
"Yeah… Shit." Varric cursed, as he realized he'd completely overlooked something that important. "Well, it's not like I can take it back now. So, since I'm here, I'm going to ask. What are your intentions with my friend, and what does Lath'inmean?"
"That is not a conversation I am willing to have with you right now, Child of the Stone." Solas growled. "As it is, I am inclined to agree with her. You are an ass."
"That answers what na'masa means at least." Varric replied, not looking phased by his anger. "I didn't understand any of the elvhen you two were spouting to each other, but there are words I would like translated. She's my friend, Solas. Just because I've bet on the two of you doesn't mean I'm not going to grill you."
"You have three questions, Child of the Stone." Solas spat.
"What does ei venura las lan mean?" Varric asked, struggling with the word.
"Ah, so that's how far back you were listening in." Solas replied, with a smirk. "Ei venuralas'lan. It means – a goddess."
"What does Ar tel pae ra esi na mean?" Varric asked, surprising Solas.
"You surprise me, master Tethras. Why do you ask about that one?" Solas asked, as they slowly made their way down.
"It sounded important, like a vow, or a promise." Varric admitted.
"It was. Ar tel'paeraesi'na. It means, I do not deserve you." Solas replied, impressed with how the dwarf did not seem to be wasting his questions. "I had thought you would ask about the Satinalia gift."
"I know all I need to about that. It's the Amell crest, in some form or fashion. She doesn't give those out lightly either, and there's only one other person I can think of who even has one." Varric replied, with a smirk.
"Fenris." Solas answered, surprising the dwarf. "She explained more of their bond to me, that he is truly a brother to her. It would only make sense that she wish for him to feel like part of a family, by adopting him into her own in a way."
"One last question, and then we find Flint." Varric said, much to Solas's amusement. "Did she look younger to you, or was my eyes playing tricks on me? Her hair was never so long before."
"That is something she wishes to tell you of herself." Solas stated, brushing off the question. "I would suggest asking her when she is…not quite so…volatile, unless you wish to risk singeing your chest hair."
"Hey, Dorian? You think I can cash in that drink now?" Hawke asked, as she made her way towards him.
"Sure thing, my dear, pull up a seat." Dorian said, knowingly.
"So which one are we mad at?" Bull asked, sitting next to her.
"Delavir durgen'len." Hawke grumbled, clutching the tankard that was handed to her before taking a large drink from it."Varric…I can't believe he'd do that to me…"
"Pay up, Kadan. I told you it wouldn't be Solas." Bull said, with a smirk, before Dorian grudgingly handed over the coin. "So, what did Varric do?"
"He…he…" She couldn't bring herself to say it, and blushed furiously.
"Confessed his love to you? No, no, nothing that sordid. He loves Bianca too much anyway. Hmm, let's see now. Did he steal your small clothes for Sera? Ink in your tea? Interrupt a private moment?" Dorian mused, rattling off several guesses, until that last one made Hawke blush even more than she was already.
"Looks like that one's a winner." Bull noted. "Question is what kind of private moment?"
At this, Hawke decides to disappear into the tankard.
"Oh dear. We're gonna need another drink." Dorian says, realizing by now just what kind of private moment got interrupted. "Well, I suppose there's nothing for it. We have to kill the dwarf."
"What?" Hawke asked, looking over to him, confused.
"If he saw you and Solas naked, dear, either Solas kills him or we do." Dorian replied. "Those are the rules. Shame really, I rather liked that dwarf too."
"It wasn't that. It could have been, but…Well, we'll never know now, now will we…" Hawke said, depressed, looking into the tankard. "We were up at the Breach. I'd went alone to inspect it again, when he found me…There was romantic confessions, kisses, and the way he held me…rough hands, soft touch, possessive and gentle all at the same time…it was nice. Got interrupted by that fucking cock blocking masa of a dwarf, and I bolted. Solas probably hates me now, because Varric is an idiot, and I'm an inexperienced bartuasha'te'lanem."
"Alright, well I'm going to pretend to understand what that big long elvish word means later. Solas doesn't hate you, not if your neck is any indication. Those are some prominent love bites, my dear, if I do say so myself. I never knew he had it in him. He must be one of those quiet but passionate types, all buttoned up till you get him alone." Dorian teased, slightly. "Everyone has at least one stupid friend, or one awesome friend who does something monumentally stupid. So, you're in the clear there too."
"Then where is he? Why didn't he chase after me when I ran off?" Hawke asked, dropping her head to the table.
"My guess? Telling Varric he's an idiot, or checking on the status of your Satinalia gift. He's been trying to keep that secret, even from me." Bull concluded, after a moment. "If you want, I can go hunt him down for you."
"Don't kill him, kay?" Hawke asked, with a halfhearted smile. "I like this one."
"Of course, Hawke, then you can tell us about all the long hair." Bull teased, before he left.
Delavir durgen'len – Stupid dwarf
bartuasha'te'lanem – Female virgin
"Commander, I'm glad I caught you." Solas called out, as he moved at a brisk pace to get to him.
"I was actually about to send for you, Solas, but Varric said he'd find you for me." Cullen replied, seeing how hurried Solas was.
"So it's here then?" Solas asked, serious now. "I suppose that interrupting dwarf did me a favor. Not that I'll be telling him that."
"Yes, stored away for the moment. I must say, I'm surprised you wanted one." Cullen admitted, as they made their way.
"It is not for me." Solas stated, his voice grave now. "Lady Hawke is…"
"I understand." Cullen said, before Solas could say anything else.
"Oi, Solas!" Iron Bull called out, as he made his way towards them. "What in the name of the Void do you think you're doing?"
"Getting a Satinalia gift for Lady Hawke, if you really must know, Iron Bull." Solas sighed, in frustration, as they continued on their way.
"You're giving her the Commander for Satinalia?" Iron Bull asked, acting clueless, giving Cullen a once over with his eyes. Solas shook his head and sighed again, while Cullen just blushed uncontrollably. "Not a bad idea, I suppose. He'd clean up nice too, but I don't think Hawke will go for that, especially not after the way I just heard her describe you."
"Not that I have to explain any of this, but I had to go through the Commander to get the gift that I will give Lady Hawke. Apparently it's very…Fereldan." Solas replied, frustrated and annoyed. "Now, what do you want, Iron Bull? I assume you did not come here simply to accost us, and embarrass the Commander."
"Yeah, Hawke is at the Singing Maiden. I don't think I should have to tell you that an upset Hawke at a Tavern is a very bad thing." Iron Bull stated. "She told me enough that I don't have to guess why she's upset. She thinks you hate her, because you didn't chase after her after she left because she was embarrassed, and Varric is an interrupting idiot. So, I'll see you back at the Tavern then."
When Iron Bull was away, Solas returned his thoughts to his current task. "I'm afraid that I'll have to be quick about this, Commander. Something tells me I'm going to have a lot of trouble here in the near future."
"Here you go. It's still under the age of Imprinting, but I wouldn't wait too long." Cullen said, handing him several bags. "There's some beef jerky, and a few other odds and ends to make things easier. Trust me, you'll thank me later. Now go, before Bull gets her to try that horrid Qunari brew."
"You're going to have to try harder than that, Dorian." Hawke giggled, slamming down a glass. "This weak stuff isn't going to do anything to me."
"I think I can fix that." Iron Bull said, setting down a glass of something dark. "Just a small glass for you though."
"What? Don't think I can handle a tankard, Bull?" She challenged, grinning at him.
"Tell you what, Hawke, if you can drink this, I'll give you a tankard of it." Iron Bull amended, smirking as Dorian rolled his eyes.
"Deal!" She declared, and downed the glass. "Bull! That taste like ass!…Oh my…I can't…I can't feel my tongue! What is in this? I want another one!"
"It's still going to taste like ass, darling." Dorian advised.
"I know, but I can't feel my tongue, and it's fascinating." Hawke admitted, bursting with laughter, before downing the tankard. "Bull, you still haven't told me what this horrid stuff is. Don't think I haven't noticed, ma falon."
"I believe we have finally found someone that can stand up to you, Amatus." Dorian said, watching her with amusement. "She just spoke full sentences and everything, after drinking that swill. I can't decide if this is a good thing or not."
"Only one way to find out." Iron Bull replied, setting down several more tankards. Hawke just grinned that wolfish grin of hers, and the contest began.
ma falon – my friend
