Cautious Pride

Hunter's Moon, devoted to Andruil, is a single night every two years, when stars align in a specific constellation. We called it: the Hunter Goddess. Hunter's Moon used to be a ceremony merely about stalking prey, and delivering the finishing blow; the more dangerous and elusive the target, the greater glory to the hunter. And then, Andruil met Ghilan'Nain. Sweet Ghilan'Nain, incapable of doing any harm against another living being, consciously. It was for her sake, that the tradition was changed, adjusted.

It became more about the hunt itself, about the chase, rather than the kill. Years passed, and the People became more creative with their aims and targets. Some continued with the old approach, stalking and killing, celebrating Andruil; others celebrated the Hunter's Moon, itself, while still dedicating their success to the goddess. Love, glory, dream, miracle, faith, desire… It all varied, went further and further away from the original concept.

My intention, and dear wish, is for us to find our way back to the the times before I broke everything. To, for a moment, forget all these years that divided us, made us different people. To be Wolf and his Pride, again. Just for the night.

And maybe, possibly, use this connection from the past to bridge the insurmountable gap between us.

And yet, when Fen looks at me, without judgement, but quietly, clearly surprised, my conviction falters. My cheeks colour, and struggling to maintain steadiness of my voice, I say,

'You know, let's forget about that. We can simply go on a regular hunt.'

'Let us not.' Counters my wolf immediately, and unwittingly, I steal a glance at him. His eyes have a strange glow to them, indiscernible for me, when he resolutely says. 'Memories it is.'

I feel blood rushing to my head, and a silly smile sprouting on my lips. I am beyond glad, and relieved, that he accepted my suggestion. So very relieved. Unable to help it, I opt to hasten tempo of the ride, instead - and hope the natural flush from the wind and exertion covers for my lapse of control over my emotions.

Fen keeps up easily, just as practiced of a rider as myself. For a while, we journey in silence, but then, the mountain trail grows more unsteady, forcing me to slow down again. In spite of my aim, I am uncertain how to even begin - the silence between us just as profound as before, even away from the restrictions placed on us by company of outsiders. Trying to keep myself from staring at him, I look up, instead - and gasp in amazement.

'Fen, would you look at that!' Forgetting myself, I speak in Elvhen, astounded.

I haven't seen the aurora for ages. The numerous lights, glittering in the night sky, of many colours and forming elusive shapes, beautiful even while lacking Fade green. Only seen in the mountain regions - and somehow, I've never been to the mountains at the right time to see them. Without much thought, I jump off, and lead the horse off the trail, and up the slope, and once the road becomes too treacherous, I tie the reins to a tree stump, and proceed on my own. I am barely aware that Fen is following me, as I focus all of my attention on the sky; and I only remember it, once I lose my balance on the slippery stone, and he reaches out to steady me.

Right, walking while looking up, when on an uneven terrain, is not a particularly brilliant idea. I smile apologetically at him.

'My apologies, Fen. I'll try to pay more attention. ' And, suddenly remembering the situation, I grimace. 'Ah. Sorry. It's supposed to be Solas now, isn't it?'

'Don't trouble yourself. I would hate for you to strain your memory needlessly. ' But the jab is lighthearted, and softly spoken, and there's a slight tilt to his lips, so I do not take his words too seriously.

I feel another surge of joy, allowed to call him the way I used to. Nonetheless, I pretend to take offence at his jibe, but he just looks at me knowingly. My lips twitch slightly at the way he shakes his head in bemusement, and finally, unable to contain my mirth anymore, I burst out laughing. This is my wolf. No matter how different, no matter how jaded, his core remained the same.

I do not know what changed, when it changed, but suddenly, he is not as much of a stranger, anymore. Somehow, in our reminiscent walk in memory lane, travelling like we did before, without any particular aim or goal, we found our equilibrium, again. Maybe it was my instinctive use of Elvhen. Maybe it was the fact that I extended my hand. Maybe, because both of us wanted this. Maybe, all of it combined. Or something else altogether.

We sit on the edge of abyss, atop one of the mountains, our horses bound below, and leisurely admire the stars. The silence stretching between us isn't oppressive, anymore, it's comfortable and comforting, because I longed for his presence, and I have it again, by my side. There are many questions left unanswered. Many things, separating us, still. But the first step has been taken, and now, I believe we will overcome them, one by one.

'Forgive me. ' Fen says suddenly, and I turn to face him. He is stretched on the ground, hands on the back of his head, in apparent nonchalance. Yet, being this close, within reach of my hand, I can see easily through the artificiality of it, how faux it is. His muscles are all tensed up, his tone too calm. And he refuses to meet my eyes. I nearly, actually reach out, as my mind screams to try and lessen the tension he feels - but I stay my hand, and aside from the nervous twitch, there's no betraying my intentions. Nothing in his behaviour had indicated he would welcome this sort of attention from me, and I really do not want to make things awkward between us, again. And right after I have managed to, miraculously, get us comfortable with each other again.

I dislike the thought that it might be, quite likely would be, a trespass. His relationship with the Inquisitor indicates a degree of closeness which would attribute her the right to comfort him.

In the end, I do nothing. I do not even ask what does he mean, exactly, what was he apologizing for. I'm pretty sure he means the whole picture, and I do not think the fault lies entirely with him. Especially since I was the one to break us, first.

Finally, I turn away, and carefully not looking at him, to avoid putting any more pressure, I reply.

'We are fine, Fen.' Because we are. In the way it really counts - I can rely on him, and he can rely on me. With everything.

The remainder of it - defining what we are, what we really mean to each other, will come with time. What we want to rebuild - and what we want to create - is something I will not rush, because we have all the time in the world, now. And I would rather wait centuries, than let it fall to pieces under the strain.

On the way back, me and Fen exchange opinions on the current state of affairs; carefully avoiding breaching any personal ground, but still, I relate some of my adventures, and he comments on a few things which he had encountered when we were apart. To my joy, I discover he has remained of similar opinions, as he was before - maybe became a bit more ruthless and determined, than what I remember. But I am pretty sure the impression in this regard is quite mutual.

I do not tell him that I'm Quicksilver. I'm nearly certain he has figured it out, already, and I do not want to go on explaining why I want my Wings away from this war. Especially since some part of my reasoning is very much rooted in my past experiences during the Andrastian Upraising, and I do not think this is the right moment to share my pain and bloodied hands. Not so soon after we just found each other.

It is mid-morning, before we return to the fortress, and people are already up and working, when we cross the gates again. There are some new arrivals on the courtyard, merchants with wares, and wagons of supplies. The Inquisitor is speaking with a dwarf with a crossbow on his back; after a moment of scrutiny, I recognize him as Varric Tethras, whom I knew as a companion to Hawke. I recall now, that my spies have informed me of his involvement with the Inquisition, and Bianca's letter almost burns in my pocket. Of course. She must have meant him, and his elusive connections, when she spoke of the danger of Dagna's discovery.

Inquisitor Ellana pauses mid-sentence, observing our arrival with a frown, and badly concealed jealousy. Really, the girl has a completely open face, expressing her emotions way too clearly to her surroundings. The dwarf also turns around, clearly intrigued what had captured her attention so thoroughly.

'Chuckles!' He greets us with enthusiasm, and for a moment, I feel lost. What in the void? But then I see a concealed exasperation of Fen's, and it hits me. Tethras meant my wolf.

The nickname is so absurd, all the while, being so incredibly apt, I nearly choke, trying to contain my amusement.

'He really calls you that?'

'Precisely.' Comes Fen's clipped response, and this time, I am unable to stop the honest laugh. This is just priceless.

Fen is unimpressed with my merriment, and raises his eyebrow in quiet reproof. But that only amuses my further, even though I know that he is getting a bit irritated with me right now.

'My, but you are positively animated!' notes the dwarf with interest, and Dalish girl darkens, at the observation. I think it speaks a lot about my restraint, that I do not gloat. Even though I really feel like doing so. 'And who is your lovely companion? I do not believe I've had the pleasure before.'

My laughter subsides, while Fen gracefully dismounts, and holds my horse down for me. A reminiscent of the times when I was a much poorer equestrian. It is, of course, unnecessary now, but these types of gentlemanly gestures are part of his thoughtful, deliberate self; I loved them before, and I love them now.

I swing my leg over, and land on the other one, as always careful to put my weight on the healthy limb. The pain is a barely discernible twinge, after all those years, but I strive to avoid the unnecessary suffering whenever possible.

'Fea of the Wings, Master Tethras. And the honour is all mine.' I reply, echo of my mirth ringing in my melodious voice. The dwarf nods, as does the Inquisitor. She remains unfalteringly polite, even if the pinched look on her face is telling how much she dislikes my presence here, or, to be more precise, next to Fen. Fen's influence, I guess.

'I know you.' Says a voice behind my back, suddenly, and I nearly jump, thrown off balance. It hasn't happened… well, for a very long time, that someone had managed to catch me unawares. The recent weeks were a painful lesson, for me, that I'm far from the controlled, disciplined person I believed myself to be. First, this whole thing with Fen, which had me going around in circles, battling my feelings again, and now, I allow someone to fucking sneak up on me. Unforgivable, and it would have cost me my life, had it been a Qunari spy.

I spin around rapidly, my hands instinctively reaching to the weapon holsters, and breathe in relief, once I see the being in front of me.

Fortunately, it turns out to be merely a spirit. It kind of explains why I haven't realized he was there - he is not, not really, hanging on the edge of corporeal existence. Doesn't make it any more excusable, though - Fen's presence has gotten me really distracted - and I tell myself firmly to get it together. Or I'll be in seriosus trouble, the moment Chargers return.

'Compassion?' I ask in confusion, trying to understand what is it that I have before me. He feels like one, and yet, he does not.

'He is not. Not anymore.' Says Fen, coming up and standing next to me. I feel a bit reassured, having his presence next to me; one can never be certain with the spirits. They see too much, know too much, and oftentimes, reveal too much. My wolf is so much of a blinding existence, he acts as a shield, from the too perceptive ones; he always did.

'What is he, then?' I do not mind Fen's brevity; even if he used to be more outspoken in the past,

'I… do not know.' Fen admits with a bit of frustration, colouring his voice.

I raise my eyebrows in amazement; my stay in Skyhold proves to be more interesting by the day. For Fen to lack certainty as to the nature of a spiritual being is… unexpected. And curious.

What are you, little spirit?

Unconsciously, driven by curiosity, I make a step in his direction, and away from Fen's aura.

'I am Cole. Just Cole.' Answers the boy-like manifestation before me, and I realize that I have made a mistake, allowing him to feel my thoughts. An uneasy shudder runs through me.

'You do not have to fear me, Pride. I would never hurt you; I just want to help.' He reaches out to me, surprising me with his motion, and I fail to react in time. His presence washes over me, numbing my senses with serenity and peace, and I forget, for a moment, about why this is a bad idea.

And then he doubles over, with a quiet, painful moan, and I snatch my hand away, internally cursing my temporary weakness. Look what I've done to the poor child.

'Kid? You alright there?' Varric Tethras comes closer, clearly worried.

'So much dark…' Compassion moans in response. 'and pain…' His body shakes uncontrollably. I glance at Fen in a silent cry for help, and he nods, sharply, stepping forward, and casting a quick spell, after which the spirit calms.

'I am sorry, child. But I do not think you should look at my past, ever again.' I say firmly, this time keeping myself in the perimeter of Fen's aura. Compassion lifts his head up, still on the ground.

'The others say so as well. They dislike me seeing it, even when their thoughts scream so loud.' He shakes his head. 'I just want to help! And I was happy, you did not fear me.' Cole's head slumps. 'I am sorry, Pride. I do not think I can take your pain.'

'I did not ask you to.' I avoid looking at Fen, even though I can feel his gaze on me, afraid of what I'll see in his eyes. I would hate him pitying me. It would break me, us, if he did, because I would not be able to tolerate it.

'I could make you forget!' Compassion perks up, hopefully.

'No.' I reject his offer, without a sliver of a doubt. I can feel the others - Varric, and the Inquisitor - judging, evaluating me, anew. But I am indifferent to their reactions, and I straighten myself, proudly. My pain, is my own. Not to be shared - but neither to be forgotten. I am, who I am, because of how my experiences shaped me to be. The fact that large part of it involved pain, well, that's my own cross to bear.

'I did not think you would want it.' Admits Cole dejectedly, finally standing up. 'You are the Pride, after all.' He pauses, before adding, softly. 'I am glad you did not fall.'

This is getting both unsettling, and way too private, for my tastes. Especially in front of all these people - even if most do not seem to notice the spirit on the ground. But Varric, Inquisitor, and Fen, do; and that's three too many for me. I might have told some of it, to Fen - at a later date, perhaps. But the other two, I wouldn't share my past with, given choice.

When backed in the corner, retreat to another position, and evaluate situation, anew. One of the first lessons my life has taught me, never stay in the damn corner; that's just asking for a blow to come. It is important I regain a semblence of coherence, before I deal with the damn situation, and its consequences. Without second thought, I turn around to leave, to rearrange myself, find my balance.

Only to be stopped by Fen, grabbing the sleeve of my jacket, brought to a halt mid-motion.

' Forgive me. ' He repeats, and I hate seeing the guilt in his eyes. He has, in this regard, nothing to feel guilty of.

' Not everything in this world gone wrong is your responsibility, Wolf. I, or my experiences, most certainly are not.' I say, this time, facing him, head on, and he flinches, ever so slightly, at the definiteness of my words. But I do not want to leave on that, too harsh, of a note, drawing an impenetrable line between us, so I briefly squeeze his hand on my sleeve, before pushing it off. 'We are fine. That's all that matters. '

'Could we… talk , perhaps?' By the emphasis placed on the word, I know Fen means visiting me in the Fade. I hesitate, for a second - we haven't done that, for the longest of times. I have disliked the dream visits, because everything is so much harder there, disentangled from the reality; much harder to hide and pretend. Without things to ground me, I am much more transparent, easily seen through.

Obviously, for Fen, it was never the case. That was where he was originally from, after all, so he always held the advantage, there. Dreamborn, I called him, laughing, once.

Which is why he had never pushed it, upon me. He knew of my preference, to stick to the physical reality, and always, always, asked. Tactfully, and never, ever, pressuring me.

With a sigh, I realize that I will have to, most likely, get used to us talking in our dreams. It is already quite apparent to me, that in Skyhold, any privacy is an illusion. Even if we chose to disappear, and make time for ourselves, our disappearance in itself would have been noted, and interpreted.

So I nod my wordless agreement, and his eyes brighten up, just a tiny bit lessening the burden on his shoulders.

I glance, indifferently, at the curious onlookers, before finally, finally, departing. Behind my back, I hear a curious dwarf, assaulting Fen with his questions.

'What was that? How do you know Fea of the Wings? And what was that language?'

I allow myself a hidden smile, satisfied that I could extricate myself from it, while Fen answers, with this nonchalantly collected, typical for him, attitude.

The stay in Skyhold becomes easier to bear, afterwards, and I finally admit to myself how much this undefined, uneasy situation between us bothered me. I could care less about the disapproval of others, even if, suddenly, I find myself under close scrutiny.

They're curious of me. I can feel the eyes, watching me, more or less covertly, and internally, bristle, on edge. I had gotten comfortable with the feeling of anonymity my disguise usually grants me, and this change is unnerving. Even if the Seeker had warned me, she hasn't been really all that annoying. Before.

Have I slipped up? Has the my strange, surprising encounter with the spirit betrayed me, too much?

I breathe a sigh of relief once I realize it's not really about me, it's about Fen… Solas. Apparently, the fact that he has got something disturbingly like a friend is so mind boggling for everyone, I am treated as a freak of nature. His carefully cultivated persona of people-disliking recluse suffers now, by my mere existence.

I wonder if he regrets asking for me to join up, and it sends unpleasant jolts of pain through my body. I do not like considering it.

I am not very surprised by their desire to know more of him. His influence over the Inquisitor is very significant, to the bitter frustration of the official advisors. She makes literally no decisions without consulting them with him, and obviously, that makes him an object of their interest, as well as controlled uneasiness.

But it goes further than just that, although I doubt they are aware of it.

I see the signs of his influence in the Inquisition… everywhere. The small message boys, the cooks, the scouts and the soldiers, and the servants, many of the elves serving the organization are his, affiliated with the clans who had sworn their loyalty to Fen'Harel. Had it been anyone else, I would have claimed the all-encompassing threads a demonic influence, or a sign of blood magic usage. But it's Fen, and so, I'm merely amazed.

He is as capable as ever.

Before the Hunter's Moon, they were willing to overlook our acquaintance, because there were no visible signs of it. Even Leliana hasn't really been bothering me about it, and the tasks I've been given were all perfectly neutral, courier-like jobs. Deliver this to that and that person. No trust, but also, not too much of scorn.

Now, they are fishing for information at every step, and being none too covert about it. Really, what kind of an idiot do they take me for?

Looking for solace, I find my way to the Undercroft. The place is very rarely visited, and it was high time I saw Dagna, who spends most of her time here. She has been, apparently, following Bianca's advice a little too closely, and avoiding Varric Tethras turned into avoiding contact with almost anyone, whatsoever.

Dagna bristles at the sight of me in her safe sanctuary.

'Fea? What are you doing here? Is Quicksilver angry with me? She must be, I haven't really had anything important to report…' She speaks so quickly, on the edge of panic, I am, at first, a bit overwhelmed it.

'Dagna, calm down.' I try to stop her monologue of self-depreciation, but she doesn't hear me speak, so focused on her internal hysteria.

'Are you here to replace me? I am so sorry, I'll…'

'DAGNA!' I raise my voice, cutting into her sentence, and finally, she shuts up, and looks at me sheepishly. 'As far as I know, Quicksilver isn't, in any way, angry, or disappointed, by you.'

Of course I'm not. She has been here only for a moment, after all, it's not like she could have found out anything of note. As I repeatedly told my people, I do not expect miracles, from them.

It really is a wonder, however, how a talented and intelligent person like Dagna, can lack confidence to such degree. It might be her parents fault - not only they've never accepted her interests and achievements as anything of note, but also, they literally threw her out, the moment she had stumbled. Really, talk about being open-minded.

Then again, from Bianca's words, that is a rather common feature, among the dwarves underground. Unhealthy attachment to obsolete traditions, stubbornness, and unwillingness to change. Kind of ironic, when one realizes they are the best innovators on Thedas, at the same time. Only their inventions are limited to the things they consider acceptable, worthy endeavours.

At least they do not push it as far as the Qun does. Yet.

'I am here on private business, not related to the issues of Wings, at all.' I smile encouragingly at the dwarf, who returns it, shyly. 'But, now that I am here, you can give your reports to me, directly. Who knows, I might have something to add, before delivering them to Quicksilver.'

Or it just won't make any sense for them to travel to Minrathous, only for me to pick them up in Orlais, from Bethany, when I wind up there.

'Of course, I…' both of us turn around at the sound of the door opening, and the Inquisitor walks in. She stops in her tracks, surprised at the sight of the two of us.

'What are you doing here?' Dalish girl blurts out, before grimacing, clearly regretting her lack of restraint.

Really, I am being asked this question way too many damn times, recently.

I raise my eyebrow, ironically.

'I was under the impression that the Undercroft was not, in fact, off limits.'

'It's not, but why would you want to come here?' She reiterates her question, and I want to roll my eyes. She is so full of openings… Fen, you really went easy on the girl, when you were mentoring her, didn't you?

I decide to take pity on her, and answer the original question, the one she really would like me to answer. It is laughable, how easily the people are thrown off track, how easily the flow of conversation can be turned to your advantage.

Then again, I doubt any of them could match Fen in discussion. It was always a challenge, keeping up with him, in the rare times when we disagreed on some issue. I had the best of trainings on how to manage the said flow to my advantage.

'I've heard of the Inquisition's arcanist, and wanted to see her work with my own eyes. Wings could use a talented person like her in our employ.'

On the side, Dagna's eyes shine with mirth at my words; but she keeps a commendably straight face. Of course, the Inquisitor remains out of our inside joke, and tells me, firmly.

'Dagna is a part of Inquisition, and will remain with us, as long as she wishes to.'

I am pretty sure Leliana would do her best to prevent Dagna's leaving, disregarding dwarven female's desires. Which is why all of our spies have backup plans in existence, in case their positions are endangered. I am not leaving my Wings without escape routes, ever.

'I certainly hope to change her mind.' And, turning to the smaller female, I say firmly, underlining my words, so that she remembers them, for the future instances. I would hate to keep her stressed, without reason. 'Because she does a marvelous job, at whatever she touches. Both me, and my organization, are honoured to have people like her… under our Wings.'

Dagna laughs, finally relaxing the tense line on her face, and the Inquisitor smiles politely. I wonder if I might have pushed it a bit too far in my joke, but I do not regret it. It is important that Dagna feels both confident, and appreciated, for her to succeed.

And even though I am here, my access to the information will be severely limited by the suspicion I face as an official member of the organization. Which means I still need these reports, both from her, and from other spies we have here.

'I was actually hoping to speak with you.' Inquisitor Ellana says formally, and my curiosity rises. I was pretty certain she was very much appalled, disapproving of my actions at the Venatori fortress, and wanted nothing to do with me. This is certainly a change.

'Very well.' I nod to Dagna amicably, and then allow the Inquisitor to lead me to the battlements.

She remains quiet on the way, as well as when we reach our destination, clearly gathering her thoughts and deciding what to say. I am in no rush, and jump up on the wall, balancing on the edge of the chasm, enjoying the view and this little bit of adrenaline being this close to danger brings. I am pretty sure I wouldn't die, even if I had managed to fall, but the thrill is still there.

She observes my meaningless antics for a while, before finally speaking up.

'I've been raised by my clan, Lavellan, to respect the life of all living beings. Life is the greatest miracle of Thedas, and I do not agree with meaningless waste of it.'

I hum thoughtfully, internally swearing at my inattention.

Of course, clan Lavellan. I should have connected the facts of her heritage with her upbringing, but somehow, I was so focused on the mark she has been bearing, I haven't realized.

They are Thedasian pacifists, in as much as Thedas allows one of an Elvhen roots to be pacifist. Following, or so they claim, Sylaise's teaching, preserving the life of others. The problem is, as with most of things, Sylaise's teachings have gotten misinterpreted, partially forgotten, and misconstrued. She has valued life, and health, and healing, but the Lavellan had pushed it to the point where they do not even accept killing in self-defence.

Which might be the reason why their clan has been chased from one place to another, by the humans. I've heard that the other clans didn't have to continue with the nomadic lifestyle - as long as they were willing to defend their grounds, often, humans decided it not worth the effort to fight them. Not so much with the Lavellan, who left, at the smallest sign of trouble.

A wonder the girl knew any offensive spells at all, before this whole mess happened.

Certainly, Sylaise wasn't particularly peaceful at the end days of her reign. I remember asking her to be the one to lay down the weapon, for the sake of the Elvhen. She has rejected me. I remember it well.

'You are, of course, allowed to have your own opinions in this regard. It is none of my business if one day, you get killed, because you will try to be gentle with someone who will not have the same inhibitions.' I shrug, doing a flip off the wall, and she shudders, nervously glancing down.

Ah, not very comfortable with heights, are we.

'My problem with you begins when you risk the life of my friends, and your possible allies, while pushing your beliefs on others.' My voice grows cold, and the Dalish girl flinches at the naked threat in it. 'In the situation we are considering, you were putting the well-being of an enemy, over the well-being of someone close to me.'

I pause, and look at her meaningfully.

'That is unacceptable.'

She mulls over my words, and I sigh, feeling forced to add.

'You should really revise your attitude. In the future, you will be forced to make a choice many, many times. Being too benevolent can be more of a curse, than a blessing, when you do it at the cost of your own people. What will happen when the costs of keeping a large amount of prisoners start cutting into your treasury? Will you begin scrimping on the quality of the supplies, endangering the soldiers, or will you let some of the prisoners go, at the risk of them using the information they have gained against the Inquisition?'

I do not think there's anything more left to say, and I have clearly given her a lot to consider. I nod, before departing, and with a sigh, return to my quarters in the barracks.

Fen has been courteous enough to wait, before the meeting in the Fade, to let me regain my bearing, these past few days. At a guess, there was a lot for him to think through, as well. We had just begun anew, after all.

But this evening, the familiar tug in my mind, is all the warning I need, before I am pulled deeper into the Fade.