Surely, his lady love was toying with him. Solas knew not to assume anything of her reaction, for she had surprised him countless times, yet he was still not prepared. Anger, disgust, maybe even joy, violence, exile, where all real options. But Rhawlin allowed a silence to linger between them for some time, her face thoughtful but devoid of emotion. Every second felt like minutes, minutes like hours, his body rigid and fixed to endure whatever she would throw. Suddenly, she took a deep breath, and he held his.
"That is, um.. very cute, Solas. But, saying you're the Dread Wolf does not mean you can take me. Sort of, um.. inappropriate.. right now. Don't you think? I'm trying to be serious."
Yes. She must be toying with him. Solas' eyebrow twitched, lips parting to hang open in shock. He was beyond skeptical, beyond baffled at her misunderstanding.
"You.. You think I am flirting with you?" He half-laughed, bewildered, and took a step closer to her. Finally revealing his secret to her had been harsh on his mind; all the mistakes that had brought him to her, every wrong choice he made her suffer through, every day of aching to tell her replayed in his thoughts. Every moment of regret, swirling with a mixture of wine, new-found, overpowering hope, her aching request for an answer, his aching heart that longed to claim her, and his ragged mind could take no more. The truth fell from his mouth, and he had both known and did not realize that he confessed it in his turmoil. He spoke his true name to her and it felt as if the single word had taken every breath he'd ever had, and she thought he was teasing her.
Rhawlin looked at him, eyes reflecting her irritation. "Don't imply you weren't joking about being the god I pray to."
Solas groaned, looking away from her and out of the balcony window. "In all my life I have never known such a frustrating woman. For your open mind and all your wisdom, you can be so oblivious to the truth."
Her annoyed eyes narrowed, her mouth curving into an offended frown. "That is not funny, Solas. Do not insult me as such. The fact that your jest was cute only goes so far, when you mock the thing I have only recently discovered."
"It was not meant to be funny. It is the truth just as the fact that I the Dread Wolf is the truth." He mirrored her expression, though he did well to hide just how deeply Rhawlin displeased him with her dismissal.
She blinked, angry and confused by all that he'd told her. Eventually, her eyes widened in what she believed to be understanding. "Are you trying to teach me a lesson or something? To show me how ridiculous I look to you, believing him to be real? Or is such disparaging of what I believe punishment for not returning your sentiments? All you've ever told me is how wrong I am. Haven't you destroyed enough of what I hold close!?"
Although the woman's voice was angry and snarling, Solas blanched at seeing the tears begin to line her eyes. Throughout it all, even the day he'd ended their relationship, never had he seen her cry for his harshness. It was an extremely sobering thing to watch her eyes shine with tears and anger, to hear her choke down a sob with an angry grunt. He was reminded then what his lie was for, the reasons he not only needed to hide himself but why he had left her; to protect her, and ensure that he could make right what was wrong. Yet he was also reminded, through the terrible aching in his heart, of all he had already lost and was on the verge of losing.
Watching her tears finally fall, her gentle wail forcing its way out of her nose, he cautiously reached out to her, pausing to see her reaction and speaking in as soothing a tone as he could, as anxious as he was.
"This.. was not what I intended. I did not mean to upset you so, vhenan, I did not mean-"
"You never do, do you? What I've found is the realest thing I've ever known. More real than the Dalish dances, far more real than being Herald and.. more real than being with you. I'm finally getting answers, proof.. You've no right to deride Fen'Harel to me!" She took a shivering breath, forcing herself to calm a bit. "You are dismissed, Solas."
The elf man's open arms fell to his side and he watched Rhawlin for several seconds, going through a short list of ideas for things that he might possibly do to just make her understand in the short time he had left with her. He turned towards the stairs leading out of her quarters, but stopped to speak in a blank, masked tone.
"Rhawlin, I cannot undo what I have done or take back my words. You mentioned a greater cause; I suppose it was too much to hope that you'd continue believing that my interests were purely in the Breach. So I will offer you this. Truth, if you should seek it from me still. I will tell you, and I will show you my proof. However, pray to your god for strength if you do, because learning it will not be kind, and.. I might have need to leave the Inquisition for you knowing." Solas' steely voice softened some, but he did not look to face her. "I pledged not to distract you with my affections again. One more broken promise, I suppose. But this, perhaps it is love, it does not come easily.."
The way he'd said it all was incredibly foreboding, as Rhawlin was sure he intended it to be. She watched him walk down the stairs until she could no longer see the round of his head, and then waited to hear the soft click of her door closing, before she threw herself into the plush of her bed. It was some time of angry cursing and small sobs before sleep finally took her restless mind.
The next day was a whirlwind of activity. It left Rhawlin little time to contemplate what Solas had said to her, and less time to get over her anger. To her, Solas compared himself to the Dread Wolf the same way she'd heard Varric compare himself to Andraste, though the dwarf usually did it in good taste. Usually.
Cullen had woken her early to collect all the finished charms and discuss their release to the soldiers. The sooner the better, they'd agreed, with the impending attack. He had politely looked away and continued discussing Inquisition matters while Rhawlin dressed, but grimaced some when she made to leave without tending to her hair. After some a small argument, in which he experienced Rhawlin's foul mood first hand, he'd convinced her to at least brush it. When it was, he pointed out a small chunk missing from her duel the day before, and insisted she get her hair cut to maintain appearances. The red elf was extremely prepared to argue further, if not for another knock at the door that turned out to be a small unit of soldiers that Cullen had called for to carry the crates.
The Commander ushered Rhawlin out with the soldiers, pushing the bag of unsorted charms into her grasp. The Throne Room was busy was loud, rushing noises that Rhawlin should have been used to by then. The overabundance of noise, and that her progress was slowed as the crowd did not part for her as it did when she was alone, seemed to further her agitation. When someone stepped on her foot, she let out a loud, wordless growl.
"Oh, Inquisitor, I'm so sorry!" The chiming voice was rattled, but pleasant to hear, and Rhawlin looked up in interest to see who it belonged to.
Usually, when she saw the kitchen maid Faye, her hair was up and she was dressed in work clothes. In fact, that's exactly how Rhawlin had seen the young woman just the day before. But this morning, her hair was tied into a few braids and all pulled back into a high ponytail, and recruit armor shone on her with a wavering glint. Her cheeks were flushed with the color of her exertion, obviously not yet accustomed to the weight.
"It's quite alright. Pardon my outburst. I've seen you nearly every day for some months, but I'm ashamed to admit I do not know your name." Rhawlin spoke with the pride of a ruler, even as it was tinged with her clinging malice.
"S-Sorry, ser. I'm Faye." She spoke, her knell voice breathy with nerves.
"It is good to finally know. The armor suits you." the Inquisitor spoke to the recruit as she began to walk away, considering that the end of their encounter.
"Thank you! After I saw you fight the tea-elf, I joined the ranks!" Faye called and followed after her, excited to be interacting with their leader.
"Tea-elf?" She questioned in return, continuing behind the rest of the squad and charms.
"Yes, the apostate! He made tea for you twice yesterday while I was working. I think he and I are friends now. I think you and I would be friends too, if you ever wanted. The three of us could go to the tavern and-"
"Enough." Rhawlin stopped as she interrupted, her forced demeanor cracking slightly as she understood who exactly the girl meant. "Faye, correct? You must focus on your training. That elf will only distract you from what needs doing, and say he is setting you straight. He is a trickster." Rhawlin grimaced some as the Anchor pulsed lightly beneath her armored glove. The hitch in attention gave her time to look at the young woman's defeated face, her large brown eyes downcast. The Inquisitor sighed. "As for me, I have had far too much drink as of late. I would certainly love to help you train some time, though. What made you decide to join?"
Faye's now bright and cheerful face gained a red tint, and she rubbed the back of her neck as she answered. "Well, I didn't so much as decide. I lost a bet on your duel. B-But its not like I don't want to!"
"Lost a bet? Against who?"
"That mage woman, Morrigan." Faye spoke with a grin.
There were three meetings, two training sessions, a skipped meal time and more paperwork than she ever cared to see again. Pushing the last parchment and her quill away, she groaned realizing that she would have plenty of this for as long as she was Inquisitor. It brought a question to mind.
"Leliana, how long does someone typically keep the title Inquisitor?"
The ginger-haired bard looked up from where she was peeking over Josephine's shoulder to Rhawlin sitting on the other side of the desk. "If it were under more strict Chantry rules, I would say your life. Are you thinking of quitting?"
"No, no." The elf answered quickly. "I was just thinking what we'll do after all of this. Keep helping people, yes, but we'll lose our uniting goal. Will I be needed any more? How many soldiers will leave us?"
Josephine didn't look up, but spoke optimistically. "I'm sure there will be plenty for us to do. And beyond that there are still rifts to be sealed, you are our leader. Of course you'll be needed." She slid a piece of parchment over to expose another and scrawled her signature. "I think the charms will help keep the soldiers at least loyal to us, if not with us. Which reminds me, I do believe they should have a title of some sort."
"The charms?" Rhawlin blinked
"Yes. Something to call them by, make them seem more real. I will leave that up to you, and you should work on your speech for when we release them. Also, I'm pleased to report that the rumors have been sufficiently quelled and from what I understand, many of the soldiers did learn a bit about defensive movement from you."
Rhawlin nodded, honestly pleased to hear that something good had come from the bout. Her thoughts drifted back to Solas, of course, and she growled. The only two other people in the office, right in front of her, looked at her in surprise.
"Are you well, Inquisitor? You've been a bit.. surly." Leliana's voice came softer than was usual. Rhawlin looked up, too angry to be embarrassed, and took a series of short breaths while she thought about how to answer.
"To be honest, no. But it is not something I really want to discuss." She rose to her feet. "If there is nothing else?" With the two women's reluctant but pardoning nods, she walked out. Leliana followed quickly behind her.
"I heard some interesting news, Inquisitor." She spoke softly as soon as the office door was closed.
"Have you? Not worth mentioning when I asked?" Rhawlin scoffed softly, walking through the still-crowded Throne Room and towards the front entrance.
"No, not at all. Worth it to tell you when you're alone, though. I did not want to worry Josephine. I've found who started the rumor of Solas challenging you. Morrigan."
The Inquisitor froze, standing in the middle of the soldiers' haste, while her face contorted in anger. "I am getting quite tired of hearing her name. Along with that man's. Tell me all that you know, Leliana. I am ending this."
The Lady Nightengale did not tell all that she knew, but the red elf knew better than to actually expect it. What she did tell her, was that Morrigan had told a couple of soldiers on their way to the tavern that an elf mage was trying to challenge the Inquisitor, two nights prior. When they got there, the Inquisitor was leaving with the Seeker, and the rumor developed as the two men got drunk with their friends. Then, some of the attending soldiers overheard she'd made a bet with one of the kitchen maids that Rhawlin would win, but Solas would surrender. Rhawlin herself could assume from there that it was Morrigan who had interrupted Solas' Veilstrike, and pushed her to question whether or not surviving Firestorm actually was the blessing of Fen'Harel.
It took Rhawlin much less time to find Morrigan, as her days were almost always spent in the same place. The Garden was cheerful, bright colors and warm sun that did not match Morrigan's dark appearance or The Inquisitor's harsh demeanor. The witch was knelt by a potted plant, the Spindleweed, shifting the soil around it in care, while the elf woman made a beeline for her.
"Good afternoon, Inquisitor. 'Tis a lovely day, is it not?"
"I am so fucking done with games, Morrigan. Why did you start the rumor, why did you cheat a kitchen maid, and why did you interrupt Solas?"
Morrigan took a few seconds to finish her task before slowly standing and dusting her hands off. "You've impressed me, Inquisitor, as do your people. Quick to find answers. I do apologize, I thought you liked games. You played them so well in Orlais. Well, allow me to be as blunt with you as you are with me." She looked up to lock onto the other woman's eyes, yellow meeting gold, and smiled. "I began the gossip to force you into action. And to see that rude little cur be beaten, of course."
Rhawlin sighed, shifting her weight uneasily. "Okay, so why did you need to force me into action?"
"To clear your mind. 'Twas obvious that your heart had been broken, but not in the way I would have expected from you. I did not know I expected you to be wild and angry, until you were so quiet and doubtful. Even my boy could see you were not right. Do you not feel better?"
"No, not really. However that is mostly unrelated."
"Ah, he insulted you did he? Such an idiot." Morrigan clicked her tongue in a tsk. Rhawlin could not help but smile and nod in agreement.
"You might have been right. It is hard to say with all that has happened. Even if it might have, that cannot be the only reason you did so. Other than seeing him beaten."
"Right again, Inquisitor. I believe that Solas is not what he seems. I wondered how he would fight you, if he would hide his power or unleash it on you. You're a worthy opponent, after all, and he is such a prideful thing. I thought I might learn something to see him attack you."
Rhawlin nodded slowly, adding another clue to the mystery that was the man she loved and hated. "Alright, I suppose that makes sense, although I'd much rather you have come to me."
"I'm afraid I was not prepared for this plan when I put it into motion. Though we rarely are, isn't that so? 'Twas better the two of you have no concept of my plan."
"Oh? Was I under scrutiny as well?"
"Only a tad. Try not to think into it, lest you hurt that cunning mind."
The elf sighed, resigning to the witch's puzzling nature, and continued with her questioning. "Whatever, what about the girl?"
Morrigan looked down at the Spindleweed pot and smiled softly. "Ah, Faye. Such a sweet girl. Far too blunt for her own good. I will tell you, Rhawlin, that my wager with the girl was not intended to be won as it was. She'd told me much about Solas making tea, that he makes a face when he smells it. And she yammered about that dwarf you hold so highly and the Seeker. A gossipy thing. I asked her if she'd seen much of you, and she said no. Now, I will say again, even Kieran could see your heartache. She sees too much to be so blind, and is obviously loyal to you already. I believe she would be good to have on your side."
"If you didn't mean to cheat Faye then why did you dispel Solas?" Rhawlin hid her pride for the steadfast maid she barely knew, behind an annoyed frown.
"That is a silly question, Lady Lavellan. You came with me into the Eluvian. You know I cannot deny Mythal." Morrigan took a few slow steps to the next pot nearby, where Royal Elfroot grew tall and beautiful. For Rhawlin's comfort and partly for her own amusement, the witch ignored the embarrassed flush of color that stained the elf's cheeks.
"Morrigan, you.. heard me pray?" Rhawlin asked, her voice dropping into a distressed whisper.
"No, I did not hear it. It is a compulsion. Moreover, the voices get agitated and very annoying if I ignore what She wants. May I ask, did you pray to someone else? Elgar'nan?"
Rhawlin's eyes narrowed as she watched the raven-headed woman mix the soil around the plant, noticing she was extremely careful not to disturb the roots with her longer nails. Another person she didn't quite trust was questioning her on something personal, confusing and extremely unsettling. She grunted, turning away from her.
"No one else is left, Morrigan. The will of Mythal is all. Thank you for answering, I'll leave you to your task."
The Inquisitor walked out of the garden with fists clenched at her side and Morrigan watched her with a small smile. She moved on to a few other pots, slowly beginning to hum. It was mostly to drown out the commanding voices of the Well but, it was a nice day and she was slowly beginning to solve the mysteries within the Inquisition. Good moods came easier to her than they used to.
"Can I help?"
The witch looked up smoothly from her plants to see Cole looming behind her. He stood anxiously, head bowed to hide his face beneath the signature hat, though he was plain to see for Morrigan below him. She let out a long, theatrical sigh and spoke with her typical pride.
"Would you not be the first to know, spirit?"
Cole blinked in slight confusion before he shook his head. "I am not a spirit. And you have too many spirits. A wall of a thousand voices, all grieving the loss of her."
Morrigan rose to her feet, pushing her body into Cole's space, which typically did the trick for intimidating the younger men. But he stood his ground, looking at her with wide, innocent eyes.
"You say you are no spirit, but you are not human."
"I am too human!" The boy spoke indignantly, childish, his hands clenching into fists. Morrigan quirked a brow, curious at his outburst.
"I apologize. What is your human name, again?" She spoke in a much calmer, interested tone. Cole eyed her for a moment before responding, his tone still holding a pout.
"Cole."
"Ah, Cole. I am Morrigan, though you know who I am. It is a pleasure to formally make your acquaintance." She offered her hand to him, fingers straight and sharp with her nails. Cole smiled, pleased he knew this answer from Varric's teachings. He took her hand in his and shook it, perhaps a little too powerfully, and spoke his line in return.
"The pleasure is mine. How about this weather?"
Morrigan laughed softly and released his hand. "The weather is fine and good. But I was really wondering about how you became a human..."