A/N: Some time, I should post a chapter with mine and Raven Sinead's comments on it. The amount of snickering and innuendos and general revelry we exchange on the things we write is just silly.
It was a gloomy day, but Revka's disposition was as sunny as the clearest morning as she walked across the courtyard. Haven was turning into a healthy little village. Every old house, left from when the place was discovered by Solona and her companions during the Blight, had been taken over by as many families as could comfortably fit in them – whole families slept in one room, but at least they had a roof over their heads, and walls to keep out the cold. Large, barracks-style buildings had been built to house soldiers and anyone else who did not have a family with them. Outside the main walls, out with the forge and the stables, one giant hall was in the final process of being erected to house the Iron Bull's Chargers.
Pilgrims arrived by the day. Many pledged to serve the Inquisition in some way, but even those who did not were sheltered and fed, often pledging to serve once they saw that the organization took serious its promise to feed and shelter the poor and needy. Revka and Josephine were kept busy raising funds for the Inquisition, but as they gained members, they also gained notoriety, which in turn raised the curiosity of the nobility of all the major countries in Thedas. They pledged their loyalty at this point because their allies did, or to spite their rivals. Revka and Josephine both did what they could to enhance this theater of the Game. It was distasteful, but it got them what they needed. They would both do much to feed the hungry mouths coming to them daily, to outfit their soldiers, to keep everyone warm, faithful or not.
Now, though, she took a break from work to seek out her sister. The cook had made something special, at Revka's request, and she hoped to share it with Solona.
She found the mage by the stables, kneeling next to a small child.
"Just be careful from now on, and if you hurt yourself again, don't hide it. The quicker we heal something, the less time you'll hurt."
The boy nodded, his eyes big, and then he turned and ran to his grateful mother. "Thank you so much, Ser mage," the elven woman said, petting the hair of her son. His ears poked out through his hair in a way that Revka found adorable.
Solona waved her off. "Please, call me Solona. And it is no trouble. Just try to keep him from climbing the tallest of the trees, yes?"
The woman nodded, then her eyes snapped to Revka and she took her leave. Solona turned as her sister approached.
"Ah! Revka!" She strode forward, engulfing the diplomat in an embrace. Then she pulled back, looking down on her sister. "A rather dramatic change in wardrobe for you."
Revka felt her cheeks heat as Solona released her. She wore white hose and a red tunic cinched with a wide belt, showing off her already-visible belly. Her feet were clad in knee-high, brown leather boots, laced up the sides in the current fashion. Her hair was down, the strands at her temples gathered and tied back in her customary style, practical and yet elegant in its simplicity.
"What do you think?" She turned so Solona might catch sight of all of her. "Cullen suggested it before he left, and it made sense. It will be easier as I grow larger to simply don a larger tunic than to either make more dresses or let out the ones I have. And when it is time to feed the child, a shirt will be simpler and more readily moved aside than the bodice of my dresses. But it is… strange. They are the first hose I have worn."
Solona's eyes turned down at mention of the former templar's name, but she said nothing about him. "I think they suit you, and you wear them well. Though… aren't you freezing?"
Revka smirked. "I could ask you the same, Sister." Both of them were out in the snow without cloaks. She and Solona were alike in that they were constantly warmer than others around them, clearly a family trait. Add to that her pregnancy, and, well… she only wore a cloak if she was outside for more than half an hour at a time.
"Fair enough!" Solona said with a chuckle.
"I had the cook make us something I think you'll like." She held out the box she carried, lifting the lid to show the confection within. Solona's eyes grew wide with delight. "Care to join me?"
Five minutes later they sat at the small table in Revka's cabin. Solona delighted in the treat, but Revka did not miss how her sister's eyes traveled to all the signs that Cullen also inhabited this cabin when he was in Haven.
"Solona, you are not so sneaky as all that. Tell me what you're thinking?"
Her sister sighed, putting down the pastry before speaking. "Did it have to be Cullen?"
Revka giggled. Her face took on what she knew was a dopey smile as she thought of her husband, standing tall and strong, looking at her from across the marshaling yard with a smile he reserved only for her. "Yes," she said simply. "It had to be him. It's him."
Solona frowned, her eyes traveling to Revka's belly. "So this wasn't some kind of marriage of convenience? You wanted him? It wasn't some…liaison with unintended consequences?"
"Are you suggesting I didn't want his attentions?" Revka frowned, a mirror of her sister's. "That he somehow coerced me? I pursued him, Solona. I admit I did not plan to become pregnant, but I already knew I loved him before I knew I would be bearing a child."
"But did he tell you all there was to tell?" Solona got up, pacing the small amount of space in the middle of the cabin. "Did you know he was at the Circle with me?"
"Not at first." Revka was feeling defensive. "Leliana mentioned something, so I asked him and he told all."
"All? He told you of his unrequited love for me?" Solona turned, her expression one of inner torture. "Did he…"
"Out with it, Solona." Revka did not have time for this.
Solona sighed, half-turning so as not to meet her sister's eyes. "He was the one who greeted me when Mother and Father sent me back to the Circle, Revka. He held me down as they cut my scalp with their razors. He avoided my gaze for hours while they branded my face, Sister." As she spoke, her volume increased, her fervor with it. "He nearly went mad during the Blight, screaming for the death of all mages in the Circle! I know it has been ten years since that time, but… for fuck's sake, Revka, did it have to be that man?!"
Revka didn't know what to feel. Cullen had not shared those details with her. She knew he had been captured during the Blight, and that it had scarred him deeply. But she also knew he had recovered. And what Solona spoke of between them happened before the Blight. It had been a very long time, and he had been incredibly young then. Revka stumbled upon the answer as she opened her mouth to speak.
"We know different men, Solona," she said. "He did not share all details with me, but must we suffer and relive the sins of our pasts time and again? He was a man of twenty-two then. You were even younger. It's been ten years, as you say. The man I married is kind, and good, and he is so excited to be a father. He no longer takes the lyrium. He lost his arm to protect the mages of the Kirkwall Circle from his commander's wrath. He has not once brought up the possibility that I have magic in my blood, even though there is a chance our child will be born with it." She got up, walking to her sister's side. "He is a different man, Solona. And besides." She reached out, taking hold of Solona's arm. "This marriage has very little do with all that. It happened a long time ago. Should we all be held to the mistakes we make in our youth?"
Solona, so good at getting riled up with righteous anger, sagged at that final sentence. "I know. Fuck, I'm sorry. I just… the world has changed so much in my absence. How am I to pick up the pieces?"
"Wait for his return, and talk to him. I'm willing to be there. I'm sure Leliana is, as well. You can't keep holding onto this, Solona. It's not even for someone who exists anymore."
Solona merely nodded, looking sad, but resigned. Suddenly, her lips quirked up. It was so Solona to move on from her anger and into a grin. "When did you develop so much wisdom?"
Revka winked. "Mothers know."
A snort. "Know what?"
"They just know. You wouldn't understand."
Another snort. "Right. I'll remember that when I'm your midwife and you don't know."
They giggled together at that, their argument resolved, at least for the time being. It wasn't that Revka didn't understand Solona's concerns, but she did think they were unfounded. She was sure that, once the two had a chance to talk – supervised, for Solona could be a self-righteous arse at times – they would come to some sort of understanding.
Cassandra stood, still as a statue, watching as the Inquisition's newest members walked the last part of their trek to Haven. A trip that would take a normal, healthy person two weeks on foot had taken this group three, and Cassandra counted that fast travel. The mages numbered children among them, mothers, fathers, the old and the young. They brought every earthly possession with them: paper and quill, books and hand-made blankets and clothing, stores of herbs and potions. They had literally nowhere else to go. Everything they owned had to leave Redcliffe with them. Moving one's entire existence took time.
The Seeker was unsure what to feel. She had spent a good deal of her life hating all mages for what a few misguided, power-hungry souls had done to her brother. Then she had fallen in love with a mage as a young woman. Regalyan had shown her what it truly meant to bear the gift of magic in a way not even her superiors could have. He had won his way inside her heart, warmed it, calmed the battle-lust in her blood, cooled the raging inferno of her anger. He had shown her how beautiful magic could be, what good it could do when not turned toward the aims of those who selfishly sought power.
That they had decided to part ways mattered not. He had opened her eyes. She had still thought oversight was necessary, for the risk of those who were power-mad turning to demons and blood magic was still quite strong, but when Divine Justinia had taken the Sunburst Throne and begun to enact changes within the Chantry and the Circle of Orlais, Cassandra had been pleased. Oversight did not mean prisons. Mages ought to be allowed opportunities to grow, to learn, to control their powers and harness them for the betterment of mankind.
And they ought to be allowed to love.
That was what was sung in the Chant, no? "Magic is meant to serve Man, and not rule over him." Andraste said so.
How did we get it so completely wrong?
Thoughts of Ragalyan brought a tickle behind her eyes. It was difficult to believe that he was dead. It was even more difficult to remember because he had been out of her life for several years before the Conclave. She had constantly to remind herself that he and his new lover were gone from this world forever, right along with the Divine and all others who attended the Conclave.
All except Zanneth.
Cassandra eyed the elf standing at her side. Funny how she lost an old lover and gained a new that awful day.
She is not my lover. Why do I think of her as such?
Because you love her, Leliana's voice answered in her head. Whether or not she feels the same, whether or not you ever do anything but love her from afar. Yes, she is not your lover – yet – but it is still, in a way, an appropriate way to think of her.
Cassandra sighed. These thoughts were cumbersome. She preferred action. So why could she not muster the courage to say something to Zanneth and be done with it? Know one way or the other?
It is not that I cower. It is that I have not had the right moment.
She knew it was a lie. Opportunities had abounded. They may not have felt just perfect, but anytime that they were alone and not discussing Inquisition business would have sufficed. Was she a coward?
You are not a coward, Cassandra. You are a romantic. You wait for the perfect moment. You want it to be special, if indeed she can love you back. What is more romantic than that?
She sighed again. Yes, it was true. She wanted it to be just right. But she should also do it soon. The right moment might never come on its own. She might have to make a moment "right."
"So much sighing," Zanneth said, pulling Cassandra out of her reverie. The Seeker looked up to see the smallest of grins pulling at the elf's red lips. She was struck by how beautiful Zanneth looked in the late afternoon's sunlight. Her hair shone, lit orange by the sun that would soon set. The tattoos upon her face contrasted starkly against her pale skin, and yet Cassandra could see a slight pink flush from the cold upon the elf's cheeks. She so longed to reach out, to touch, to trace those marks, to run her thumb along the lines as they traveled her chin, her shoulders, her arms, over onto her chest…
Cassandra willfully redirected her thoughts, putting a lid on her desire. It would do her no good now.
"I am just thinking on all that has happened," she said instead, tearing her eyes away from Zanneth's face to watch the arriving mages once more.
"A lot has happened," Zanneth agreed, nodding. She wore the same uniform as the scouts of the Inquisition, leather armor and an Inquisition tabard cinched with a leather belt. She had stowed her hunting coat, citing that it had been through much and she did not wish to ruin it. Cassandra was secretly relieved. The elf should be wearing armor. As the Herald, she was a target. Threnn's attack had proven that beyond the shadow of a doubt.
"Despite it all, I am… glad that you are here, that we have become close," Cassandra ventured.
Again, that subtle quirk of the lips, so very red against her pale skin. "As am I."
They stood the rest of the vigil in silence. By the time Cullen and Fiona, leading the group, reached the gates to Haven, Solona, Leliana, Revka, and Josephine had joined them. The women of the Inquisition, standing together, receiving its newest members. It was appropriate, Cassandra thought, that they should all be here, gathered together. Now that Cullen was back, as well, their leadership would be whole again.
It does not feel quite complete…
Before Cassandra could muse on this thought further, she was startled by a cry of anger from Leliana.
"You!" The spymaster flung herself from Solona's side, heading straight for a very surprised-looking Dorian. Cassandra instinctively lunged after her, getting hold of Leliana's arm just as she was about to bury a dagger in Dorian's side. She reached around, pulling the former bard's wrists behind her back, causing the dagger to fall to the ground.
"Ah! What is this?!" the Tevinter mage yelled, taking a few steps back as he realized what had almost happened. "What is it with you people wanting me dead?!"
"It was you!" Leliana shouted again.
"Leliana, what are you on about?" Cassandra ground out, keeping her grip despite the boot heel that had just landed hard on her ankle. Leliana knew just how to get out of a hold like this. The Seeker would sport a nasty bruise for more than a week from that kick.
Solona appeared at her side, moving in front of Leliana so that the spymaster might see her hands "speaking". "Leliana, stop this! There is an explanation and you cannot hear it if you are busy trying to kill him!"
She stopped struggling, but Cassandra could see the betrayal in Leliana's stance as she looked upon her lover. "But he's the one! He's the one who stole you from me! He's the one who stole you from all of us! Most Holy would be alive to lead us! He-"
"Stop thinking this!" Solona cried, true despair in her expression. "That he took me is proof enough that I am human, Leliana! Perhaps I could have changed things, but perhaps I could have not!" She paused, looking behind her to Dorian, who cowered near Fiona, then back to Leliana. She continued, though so quietly, only Cassandra could hear her. "Let us move to where we can speak privately. I apologize that I forgot to mention that the man I showed you has joined the Inquisition. With all that has happened… I forgot that I never put that together for you."
Leliana stiffened. "Fine." After a pause, she added, "Cassandra, let me go."
The Seeker complied. The spymaster immediately turned, stalking toward the Chantry. Solona turned knitted brows on Cassandra. "I am sorry for the spectacle."
"She will be more displeased than I on that count," Cassandra answered, indicating Leliana's retreating back.
"Yes," Solona sighed. "I keep mucking this up." Shaking her head, she turned to Fiona and Dorian, stooping to retrieve Leliana's dagger. "Come. Best not to keep the Left Hand of the Divine and spymaster to the Inquisition waiting, yes?"
Dorian looked dubious. "She's not going to try to skewer me again?"
"Best to keep your guard up," Cassandra suggested, unable to help a slight bit of teasing. "Better safe than skewered, yes?"
Dorian looked far from reassured. "Right… maybe I'll sit this one out."
"Dorian," Fiona said, using his name as a slight reprimand. "You made this mess. It is your responsibility to deal with the consequences."
Grumbling, Dorian acquiesced, following Solona up to the Chantry. Fiona, at least, came as well, to give Dorian an ally. Cassandra shook her head. She did not know what to make of that particular mess.
She went to move away, but found that she could not bend her ankle properly. "Dammit."
"What's wrong?"
Cassandra looked up to see Zanneth was still at her side. Now that the spectacle Leliana had made was over, the crowd was dispersing, leaving the two of them relatively alone.
"Leliana is small, but powerful. Her kick caused more damage than I thought." She took an experimental step, and nearly fell. "Damn."
She found her hand taken, and then Zanneth's lithe little body pushed itself up underneath her arm for support. "Come," the elf said, directing her to move with a subtle pressure from the arm around her waist. It sent a thrill up Cassandra's spine, goose flesh spreading over her scalp. "I'll help you."
Heart nearly in her throat at their closeness, Cassandra allowed the Herald of Andraste to help her into the village proper, where Solas agreed to see if anything could be done to ease the damage her complimentary Hand had caused.
Solona stomped away from the Chantry, Leliana at her side. They had spoken with Dorian and Fiona until Leliana seemed to understand, but they had not yet spoken about it. They needed privacy. They did not have that out here in the courtyard outside the Chantry.
She was still angry about Leliana's outburst. Not because she'd shouted, or because she didn't have a right to be angry with Dorian, nor even because it was public. No, Solona understood those things. Making a public spectacle had never bothered her. She herself was still angry with Dorian. And she had neglected to forewarn Leliana that she would see his face again, and it would be the face of an ally. Solona actually felt terrible about that oversight. She should have remembered, said something to her lover sometime between their reunion and the arrival of the mages. The night of her arrival in Haven would not have been a good night. But it had been nearly three weeks since then. Surely she could have said something one of those nights?
No, what angered Solona was much more subtle than that.
As soon as they were inside Leliana's cabin, her hands began moving, the words flying out of her mouth. "When did you go from telling me to be more careful to thinking I could do anything?"
Leliana was taken aback, blinking by the door. She pursed her lips, removed her muddied boots, and then moved fully into the cabin. "What?" she finally said.
Solona made a frustrated sound. "Do you remember when we were in the Brecelian Forest? How you begged me to be more careful? The spirit, as Witherfang, had stunned me, and one of the werewolves almost gutted me."
Leliana's eyes flashed. "Yes, Solona. I remember it. How could I not? You were foolish, and I was powerless, and I have that moment forever stamped upon my mind!"
"Good," Solona said, ignoring that her lover was bristling. The cold trickle of fear that Leliana could inspire in others didn't work on the arcane warrior. "So then why do you believe I could have stopped that thing from appearing in the sky?!" At the last, she gestured through the open curtains, where light from the Breach high above shone through.
"What are you on about, Solona?"
"I admit that I probably could have done something. Things would have gone differently if I had been here." Solona stopped, frowning at Leliana as she continued to speak and sign. "But I also could have perished, right along with the Divine, Leliana."
"Maker, Solona, don't say-"
"What?" the mage interrupted, hard eyes holding her lover's gaze. "That I could have perished? It's true, Leliana. My magic has saved me countless times, but it also has made me a target. And when you shout for all to hear that I could have saved Justinia-"
"But you said it yourself! You could have! Things could have gone differently if you were but here! And that man stole you from us!"
"Leliana, please!" Solona ran her hand through her hair in frustration. She could feel her anger boiling up inside of her. Since her captivity, keeping control of her emotions had been more difficult, especially her anger. It seeped in even when she had a joyous moment. She had nightmares. Meditating was more difficult. The only thing that seemed to silence it was attending Chantry services, something she had never regularly done, and her time alone with Leliana.
And now… now the anger bubbled forth in one of those hallowed places where it was normally silenced, where the fire was normally soothed.
"What is this really about, Solona?"
Solona turned pleading eyes on her lover. "I can't… fix everything, Leli. I can try. I can fix many things. But that hole in the Veil… it would have ripped me apart. I need you to stop believing that I am the solution for all the problems that currently plague us. I can help, Leliana. There are many things I can fix. I can bring someone back from the brink of death. I can teach others the art of healing, and the art of the blade. But I cannot solve all the problems of the world. It's… it's too much. It's too big. I can't live up to that. And I can't stand the thought of disappointing you, every time I can't do something you think I can."
She hung her head as she finished, pinching the bridge of her nose and turning away. Words were failing her. She could not quite describe what she wished. She could not find the words to tell Leliana that she was tired, that her anger threatened to overpower her at every moment, that the only moments when she was neither tired nor angry were when she lay in her lover's arms. She could not find the words to explain that her magic could not act as a shield for the world, but rather turned her into a tool. She could move through and act in the world, but she could not keep cataclysmic events from happening, could not save every life, could not keep the world from ending.
Words failed her, for her power could not be explained in words, not to those without it. Oh, how wonderful would it be know another like her? Another who knew the feeling of opening herself up to the Fade? Another who knew what it felt like to be so powerful and yet to be so powerless? Sometimes the world was a very lonely place.
Before she could truly disappear into her despair, a warm hand appeared on her shoulder, turning her around. Soft blue eyes gazed up into her own. "You have never disappointed me, Solona," Leliana said. The former bard reached up, gathering Solona into her arms. "You could never disappoint me, my love. Those words were said in anger. I… I know I could have lost you as well as Dorothea. I suppose…"
Solona felt her heave a sigh before continuing. "I suppose not all of my anger has left me just yet. While you were gone, I kept seeing things go badly that I thought would have gone different were you here. But that is not fair, Solona. And I am sorry. I know you are human. I know you do not have all the answers. Or, at least, I know this intellectually. But it is sometimes easy to forget that just because you are so much more powerful than those around you, does not mean you are the most powerful in all the universe. I forget that sometimes, I think. And, when I am angry, and afraid, it's like those emotions overtake every part of me. And they know the answer, to relieve the ache, so I seek it out somewhat ruthlessly."
When Leliana did not continue, Solona finally lifted her head from the smaller woman's shoulder and looked down into her eyes. "And what is that, Leli? What is the answer to the ache of anger and fear?"
"You, my love." Leliana smiled, cupping Solona's cheek. "I am not so afraid when you are near. My anger cools when you are by my side."
Solona immediately pulled Leliana into her arms, holding fiercely to her. For that, too, was the answer for the ache in her own chest: her love.