Chapter 11

The elven Inqyisitor pursed his lips as he stared, pouting, at his reflection. He had a second thought, snapping out of his excitement to finally be able to be himself and reclaim his age long lover. Lavellan hidden away his tattoos and replaced the "vasallin" markings with another simpler, easy illusion spell on top of the other.

Having suffered a six year long case of amnesia, his magic was rather rusty. Golden ambers glanced in the direction of his bow, snirked as he remembered one of the vastly larger Qunari's Chargers... Dalish, he believed she was called. 'Guess my bow shall be my staff for now... As if I had need of one centuries ago...'

Lavellan heaved a sigh, hanging his head as he gripped the edges of the wash basin's table; leaning against it. As much as he didn't like the idea, he knew it probably be the best to keep his true identity secrect for now. Yes, even though moments ago he re-awoken he still retained his memories of his short six year life of being this era's nomadic Dalish. And oh did he enjoy those carefree days...

The elven hunter-mage straightened up, a hand still lingering on the table while with the other brought the wolf pendant to his lips. "Forgive me, ma Vhenan... Just for a little longer, even if it pains me to do so..." he whispered to himself.

He knew the other was here, had been since the day the Breach appeared... And knew very well his previously forgetful self subconsciously wanted to pursue the elven mage. Oddly... Lavellan felt a bit jealous of the fact. Even though it was him, it really wasn't... Him attempting some form of courtship.

The hunter-mage released the pendant as he turned on his heel, heading out of the washroom and back into the bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed, working on unclasping shin and foot guard armor and unlacing boots.

He also made quick work disgarding his leather trousers as he made way towards a certain chest. He got down on his knees, brushed his hand admiringly over the craftsmen work of his clan's craftsman. He unlatched the lock and pushed the lid up, finding exactly what he wanted, and silently thanked Abelas for not taking it.

He gathered up both armor sets, one of Dalish make and his old armor he wore during the Rebellion. Lavellan carried them over near the still warm hearth, carefully laying both sets out on the floor. He sat down beside them, after having pulled one of the larger pillows to shield his naked rump from the cold stone, and delicately started to take them apart. The hunter-mage diligently worked in melding elements of both armors, got an idea and quickly gathered up the set he shucked off earlier.

As time went by, the sun steadily began to settle behind him, he leaned back with a tired breath. A pleased smile on his lips as he glanced over his finished work. "There... That looks good enough." he praised himself.

Lavellan stood up and right at that moment, while wiping his hands together, a loud startled squeak sounded to his left. His head snapped to the side, smoldering golds wide in surprise, mostly not having heard Lady Montilyet coming in and up the steps. Her face was flushed red, her writing board shielding half her face as she embarrassingly glanced the other direction.

"F-Forgive me, your lordship! I-I didn't realize- Oh, Maker..." Josephine stuttered, shuffling her feet nervously about.

"Hello, Lady Ambassador, curious of an elven man's-" he was only teasing..

"Maker, no!" the Inquisition's Lady Ambassador nearly shrieked, but still a pitch too high for Lavellan's poor sensitive ears. "I-I mean... I'm so sorry, I-I'll just- There'sAMatterLadyPentaghastWishedToSpeakWithYou!" she spoke rather too quickly for him to catch fully, but the Antivan woman had darted back down the stairs and out the door before he could say anything.

The still rather naked hunter-mage blinked, gave a tilt of his head then simply shrugged. 'Heh, shemlen. So adorable when flustered.' he snickered to himself.

He went back about his business, cleaning up and setting aside the extra armor pieces in his wooden chest. Then gathered up the finished armor set and placed it carefully on one of the spare armor racks near the dresser. In that dresser, Lavellan pulled out the Dalish-styled casual outfit for Skyhold and began to dress.

The dark fabric leggings were comfortably snug. He then pulled on the form fitting soft brown tunic, fiddled with the tapered sleeves for a bit before buckling a simple three inch wide, thin leather belt at his waist. Moving towards the bed, where he found another pair of leather boots. They looked much taller, once put on, maybe a couple inches up passed his knees? Lavellan sat down and slipped his feet into one at a time, taking his time in lacing each boot up.

Once finished, he stood up and glanced them over. Sure enough, the boots did go a little higher above his knees and appeared to mould pleasingly with the shape of his legs. He gave himself a once over, making sure everything was in order. Just as he was about to leave, Lavellan remembered something.

Earlier, in the washroom, he had done up his hair like he always had centuries ago. If he were to keep up a mask for now, he'd have to be careful to keep doing the things he had done before his awakening. So, the hunter-mage quickly undid the thin leather cord, finger-combed out his hair and hurried down the steps while tying back his hair in a loose low pony-tail. 'This will have to do for now.' he sighed, stepping out the door and right into the Great Hall.


Solas paced in the rotunda, Cole having left a long while back. He chewed on his bottom lip, Cole's words rolling over and over in his head. 'How...? It's been so long since I've remembered those words...but those were not my thoughts.' he paused, turned just barely to look towards the doorway, 'Lavellan's...?'

His brow furrowed, thinking about earlier that afternoon. Lavellan had left rather quickly, something having to do with his headache returning. Understandably, the elven hunter had drank himself away for a week straight, if not longer. Still, something felt off.

He turned completely around to face the door, having come to a decision too long had been put aside, in his opinion. Solas needed to confront Lavellan about last night's events. Fully this time. He wanted - needed - to know. The elven mage stalked towards the door leading into the Great Hall only to stop right at the door.

His heart skipped and he grasped at his chest, a memory painfully came to mind. 'Mayhaps it was me Cole was reading... Because... There's no way he's...' Solas' grip tightened and his jaw set firmly, fighting back the prickling sensation. Swallowed back the emotional pain as he steeled himself. 'No... He's gone.'

From the next level up, both the Spymaster and the Tevinter mage had been watching Solas for a little bit. Curiosity more from what they just heard. It wasn't like they were purposely eavesdropping, usually not many hear Cole verbally project someone's thoughts. That's if the individual remembered seeing the Spirit boy.

"Was that...?" Dorian started to question, honestly confused as he gave a tilt of his head.

Leliana had her in thought expression with a furrowed brow. "Seems Solas is keeping things from us..." she replied, turning her gaze towards Dorian for a brief moment before glancing down to the elven mage that finally left the rotunda.

She excused herself, returning to her roost above. The spymaster waved over her two most trusted agents. She gave them their orders, see what they could find on their elf mage friend...