AN: Slow and steady wins the race. This was supposed to be one super long chapter but I split it because it really deals with two distinct but important facets of our story. I like keeping things clean so here's the first. Next chapter to include the second plot point.

Thanks again to all those that shared their thoughts about the last chapter and to everyone who has since given this fic a read. You know I could not be doing this without you :)

All the best!

~Voi


She had been staring at the letter for hours. Eyes burning from exhaustion, she pressed her fingertips to drooping eyelids as she attempted to fight off the sleep that beckoned with velvet seductiveness.

The hour was late, but given everything that had happened over the course of her day, it was the first moment of proper silence she had been able to enjoy as well. Time to think, to make decisions carefully rather than just react to events as they happened. Despite her physical exhaustion, there was something nagging in the back of her mind that refused to let her settle, and she planned to solve it as soon as it ceased its near incoherent panic.

Getting to her feet in an attempt to shake off the coiling unease, Lavellan plucked the sheaves of paper, her letters, from her desk and took them to where the fireplace was still burning bright. Once, twice, she skimmed the slanted writing without comprehending, too tired to make sense of the words she had penned with such deliberate focus just hours before.

If Lavellan was being honest with herself she knew the cause of her sleeplessness, and the inky specter of her unease was not going to be found in the words she had written. Rather the source of such emotion was there in her pocket, the same place it had been since she had pulled it from his pocket not long before.

Her lips twitched into a frown as she looked down to where the telltale fringe of strings peaked out from the top opening. A lump in her pocket, a small curve of little note; it had gone unnoticed by all those she had interacted with that day, unseen. But she knew it was there, she could see it, and the sight made the knot in her throat all the harder to swallow.

Fingertips brushing the edge of the pocket opening, she hesitated for a moment before delving inside, feel the familiar twist, the texture of silk and grass and wood all tangled together in a different sort of knot.

It glinted in the firelight when she finally mustered the strength to draw it, like starlight on her fingertips.

Solas.

There was no separating the meaning of this token with the man, but she still had little idea of how to proceed. Did she undo the tangles and leave the loose bits for someone else to use, or was it worth rebraiding? Perhaps she might split the strings in thirds and create small versions for her sons.

"It was meant for you. The heart that lives outside your chest, the one that resonates with the song of your spirit. It will not beat for us the same way."

She looked over her shoulder to where her eldest was standing, pale hands laced tightly in front of him. He might not have needed sleep the way other human boys did, but he had enjoyed the peace well enough to try laying down and closing his eyes several times a week.

"Cole?"

It was unusual that he would be up and about at this hour. And yet, she was not as surprised when from behind him peeked her twins, fiery hair blazing despite the dimness of the room. Cole was a tender-hearted boy, there was little he would not do for his younger brothers.

She crossed the room to them in an instant, setting aside her work to give them her full attention, "What has happened? Another nightmare?"

Lavellan had tried to speak to the twins before they had gone to bed but had been met with the same stubborn attitudes as before. They were very much like her in that respect, and so she knew that only time and trust would loosen their lips.

"What are you doing?" Era'fen asked, rebuffing her question with one of his own, "Writing letters?"

"I..." Lavellan lowered herself to her knees when Cole settled on the ground, the boys tucked on either one of his sides. "Yes, I've been writing letters."

"Are you going away again?" Numinehn asked, eyes growing large, drawing closer to his older brothers as if to take comfort from their nearness, "Will you have to go soon?"

"You always leave after you send letter with that seal on them." Era'fen pointed to the wax seal, "Inquisition business."

"I am writing a letter about Inquisition business." She admitted after a short silence, watching as misery settled upon each boy in turn. A whimper from Numinehn, a sad sigh from Cole, a sudden stoic frown from Era'fen; each reaction was unique but grew from a shared root of unhappiness.

Lavellan felt her throat close as guilt looped itself around her and pull tight, like a rope meant to strangle. Her sons were so young, but already they knew the implications of such a letter. Smart, sharp, they had drawn the connections enough times to see that such missives were never just folded bits of paper, but a symbol, that meant they would have to prepare for their impending loss. Lavellan felt emotion sting her eyes at the thought, and coughed roughly to unseat the guilt that had settled there. .

Never again would she allow her children to feel like that.

Never. Again.

Her hands reached out to touch trembling lips and soft cheeks, tuck hair behind ears both pointed and round. Small comforts followed by a quiet admission, a promise to remain. Lavellan might have smiled had the three of them not looked so somber when she told them.

"I am writing to the Inquisition because I do not want to go away anymore, to travel. My letter is to tell them that I am staying here, in Wycome, with all of you."

After years of carrying such a weight, the relief she felt when speaking those words almost made her feel lightheaded. Lavellan had never shunned nor shirked her duty, but it had not been a role she had chosen for herself. Now she had decided it was time enough to do as she wanted, to properly balance her responsibilities with the wishes of her heart.

"Truth, brighter, bigger than the fire that warms us. A choice for yourself as well as for us, happiness in this small home." Cole's expression eased into a smile, "You mean for us to be a family here, to grow up together."

Lavellan nodded as her eyes filled, tears but ones of happiness.

"Yes. I've wanted that for a very long time."

"You'll stop being the Inquisitor?" Era'fen asked slowly, walking up to her until he could grip on of his small hands around her larger one, "You'll stay here and be Mamae forever?"

"I have always been your Mamae despite the distance," She said tenderly, "But yes, I want to be here for you, so I'm stepping down as Inquisitor."

"What about Uncle Dorian? Or Uncle Varric?" Numenhn chirped, looking suddenly worried, "Will they come to visit?"

"Oh I think they like you all enough to visit even without me ordering them places." Lavellan smiled, "Besides, just because I'm no longer the Inquisitor does not mean we will stop helping."

"No?" Numinehn asked, cocking his head to the side as if he were confused, "How?"

"You do not need to have a fancy title or have special abilities to help or make a difference." She said, "Sometimes all you need is to be brave."

"Being brave is difficult." Cole said after a while, "But friends help too. And we many friends, of all kinds."

Lavellan smiled, "Yes, we have been very lucky in that respect."

"Can any of them help with that?" Numinehn asked after a moment, large blue eyes now focused on the bit of string held in his mother's hand.

"This?" Lavellan tried to smile, to keep her tone light, but the hand seemed to jerk open instead of smoothly unfurl to reveal the knotted mess.

"It is your necklace." Era'fen breathed suddenly twisting around so that he could press his face towards it, "Like in the dream."

"The dream?" Lavellan repeated slowly, "Is this the one you will not tell me about?"

"Yes." Numinehn sighed, looking sad, "It is not a good dream. It is too dark and the knot always stays tangled."

"This knot?" Their mother said gently, gesturing to her necklace, 'You see this in your dreams?"

Had their father not been such an accomplished Dreamer Lavellan might have simply accepted their nightmare for a stroke of bad luck, a bit of Fade come too close. But remembering Solas' earlier comments about his own experience made her all the more certain that these two events were somehow connected if not necessarily related.

"Would it help if I gave you the necklace?" She asked gently, "Or is it better if I keep it?"

"Will you untangle it for us?" Era'fen murmured after a long moment.

"Yes, will you please help?" Numinehn echoed, brows rising and bending into little arches as he pleaded.

"Me?" She glanced at the three sets of eyes on her, "I suppose so. But I am quite busy right now, so it may take me some time. Is that going to be alright?"

"Oh yes." Numinehn looked suddenly relived.

"But then, what should I do when I have it untangled?" Lavellan pressed, "Do you want all the loose bits of string or just the remains of the necklace?"

"If you give all the pieces to us, we will make it better." Cole said when the twins fell silent, expressions identical masks of hesitation, "Winding, weaving, we will find a way to wrap it up. That is...if you will let us?"

His own expression quickly fell into one that matched his younger siblings, and faced with the power of those three earnest faces Lavellan found she was powerless to turn them away.

"Very well." She said with a small sigh and an exasperated chuckle, "I will undo what damage I can and then give you three the pieces. But that is not something we will start at this hour. It is late, so get yourselves to bed."

And then, kissing them each upon their brow she rose to see them off, watching them head down the hall with a smile upon her face. But the moment they had faded from view her earlier concern surfaced and Lavellan was once more faced with the words that hounded her tired mind, his words from that afternoon.

I could be gone in the morning, and never have had a chance to say goodbye.

The memory remained as sharp as ever, and she could still see the grief in his eyes, hear the honest tremor in his voice. And thought it was a dramatic turn of phrase, she wondered, not for the first time, if she had underestimated his sense of timing.

"One problem solved but another remains. Questions and answer all tangled together, worse than any necklace. He promised you answers but now you're not sure you want them."

Cole's arms wrapped around her waist as he buried his face in her shoulder, holding on to her as if he feared she might disappear despite her earlier promise.

"Cole?"

Her arms wrapped around him, comforting him as he trembled with the force of his empathy. She had thought he had returned to his bed, but it seemed that even now he was attuned to the hearts that needed him most.

"He wants to help, but it feels like he just makes things hurt more. Worried, weary, you're wondering if he really meant that tonight was his last night."

She swallowed the small sob that threatened and nodded instead.

"Yes."

She ached with the admission of her thoughts, feeling his name on her lips though she had not the strength to give it life. Her confusion remained, and even now she found her stranded between action and inaction. He had finally offered a glimpse into his past, into who he was, who he had been. She realized now, with no small amount of chagrin, that his words terrified her. In the face of such an offer, what could she have said?

She knew they needed to speak. But if it was as he had said, she wondered just how many more secrets he had lurking behind his serene façade. Her doubt had rendered her mute, and when he had nodded in silent understanding, leaving her to stand in that field she wondered if that silence had counted for cowardice as well.

It felt like it.

Her eldest son looked up at her with a small frown upon his lips, "Why do you not visit him now?"

"It is late, Cole." She protested, brushing his mop of pale hair with patient fingers. It had been a while since he had let her cut it she mused, now it was nearly long enough to tie into a short, stubby ponytail.

"You are using me as a distraction," Her son said after a moment, gently taking her hands and giving them a gentle squeeze, "Because you are unsure?"

"Yes." Lavellan smiled but it was a small, sad little thing, "I am unsure of what action to take, whether I should seek answers when I do not know yet which questions to ask. "

"Besides," she said with patient practicality, "If he is sleeping then it would be rude to wake him...and if he is gone..."

She swallowed past the uncomfortable twist in her gut, in her chest, "If he is gone then my appearance at the cottage tonight will not change things."

"But what if he is right outside the door? Wondering if you might let him in?" Cole responded, ghostly smile upon his lips, "What if he too is just as worried, and needs you to open the door?"

His words were so unexpected that Lavellan could not hide her surprise, nor muster a response when Cole's expression morphed into one of impish delight. He disappeared a moment later, fading into the darkness with easy grace.

And no sooner had he faded when there came a light, whisper soft, knock on the door.

Be brave, mother.

Cole's words echoed encouragingly in the firelight.

And so she would try to be.