A/N: OMG I am SO SORRY it took me as long as it did. I'll leave some more notes on the bottom about the delay. For now, enjoy!


Fifty-Two

Conspiracy of the Forbidden Ones


A prim servant placed a bowl of greens before Rosa on the table. A white tablecloth covered the coarse grained wood beneath, but it couldn't hide the uneven shape of the makeshift table. Vivienne was using an end table as a stand-in during Rosa's etiquette lessons. Rosa found that amusing, week after week, and made a point of poking fun at it.

"Good heavens, Madame," Rosa said with a mock gasp, pressing a hand to her chest as though aghast. "The shape of this table is atrocious. Is it a circle? A rectangle? Maker forbid, I just cannot tell!" She lifted one end of the tablecloth where she knew she'd stained it wiping up a little spilled red wine weeks ago. "Is that a stain? Oh! I may faint."

"Charming, darling," Vivienne said, her tone of voice suggesting she was just barely suppressing a roll of her eyes. "As always."

Josephine was quick to interject and bring things back on topic. "Now, Mistress Lavellan, you must remember to eat with the—"

Rosa grabbed up the salad fork with her right hand and lifted it for Josephine to see. "Got it. This one." She stabbed at a leaf smothered in dressing and then tried to pin the unruly edges with her fork by folding it over. She wasn't especially hungry so she took her time, just the way she knew Josephine and Vivienne expected. When the forkful was suitably tidy she lifted it to her mouth and pushed it in as daintily as she could.

"Excellent, my dear," Vivienne congratulated. "You have come so far since we started. One would be forgiven for admitting they hardly recognized you."

Swallowing, Rosa shot the enchanter a glare. "My manners have been altered to please the stupid Orlesain court. My appearance is still the same."

"Well," Josephine interjected, fidgeting. "There is the matter of your…the Dalish markings."

"Removing them was a genius move, my dear," Vivienne complimented. "And very timely, considering the ball is only a few weeks away."

Rosa felt herself blushing at this topic but said nothing as she packed another forkful of greens into her mouth. Over the next few days she had to finalize all her travel plans and confirm with Tal where and when they would meet. The long weeks since she parted with him in late summer seemed like another lifetime.

She threw herself headlong into her work as Inquisitor to keep from remembering that her brother was far away and tried to enjoy Solas' company without worrying about the future she wouldn't have with him. He'd made an effort to educate her, sharing many dreams of Arlathan with her. She'd seen his memories of battlefields, cities lit magically at night, theater performances, houses of learning, and the wilderness as he had known it. Here and there she caught a hint of his master, but mostly Solas seemed to only want to show her Elvhenan, that she might understand the world he had lost and hoped to restore.

The good parts, anyway. The bad parts he wanted to stay dead and buried.

The prim maid snatched the salad away after Rosa's second bite, as she always did now that Rosa's eating habits pleased her two etiquette advisors. She sighed, enduring it even though she wanted to eat a few more bites because the chef at Skyhold made a very tasty dressing. She sat back and pretended to preen her nails as the maid next placed the main dish before her: pasta primavera with chicken and spindleweed.

She felt Josephine and Vivienne's eyes on her as she took the proper fork and began spearing pasta and chicken, making a show of picking over it first. "Very good," Josephine praised her, grinning. Then she cleared her throat. "My dear Inquisitor, how do you find Halamshiral?" she asked, adopting a slightly different accent, more nasally.

This was the part Rosa could hardly ever bring herself to pass. "I liked it better when there were elves in charge," she quipped before eating her forkful of pasta.

Josephine covered her mouth, apparently scandalized. Vivienne sighed and this time she did roll her eyes. They were accustomed to such wisecracking, but Rosa suspected they both knew that in the moment she would control herself. Still, they couldn't let her comment slide without some reprimanding.

"Really, Inquisitor," Vivienne said, literally tipping her head back and staring down her nose as Rosa continued eating. "You must remember to watch your tongue while at Halamshiral. A good sense of humor and cunning will take you far, my dear, but a bitter comment will turn away potential allies."

"Right," Rosa said, making a show of nodding studiously. "Let me try again. I have it this time." She poked at more pasta.

Josephine and Vivienne exchanged glances briefly, probably trying to decide who should address her. Finally Josie cleared her throat and asked, "Inquisitor, we have heard you were escorted by Grand Duke Gaspard. How do you find the Duke?"

"Like most Orlesians," Rosa said in as pompous a voice as she could manage. "I find that he is better looking when he wears his mask."

Josephine snorted and then blushed, covering her mouth. Vivienne, meanwhile, sighed and shook her head. "Really, my dear, you worry us."

"Oh," Rosa said, feigning embarrassment. "I almost forgot to answer while my mouth was full. Let me try again. I can do better, I swear! I'll drop something on my tunic. That should do it." She smirked as she shoveled more food into her mouth and watched the varying expressions on both noblewomen's faces.

"Very well," Josephine said, tucking her hands behind her. "Perhaps we should merely go over reminders on—"

"Nope," Rosa interrupted as she pushed the pasta away. "I got it down pat. Time to go to ballroom lessons so I can waltz with the Empress herself without stepping on her toes…much."

"But…" Josephine stammered as Rosa got out of her seat and pushed past the prim maid attending. "We have not gotten to dessert."

"It's the little fork, Josie," Rosa tossed over her shoulder.

"She knows the silverware, my dear," Vivienne reassured the ambassador. "She has known them for weeks. It is the dancing she requires more practice with."

"And the conversation," Josephine murmured under her breath—but not so quiet Rosa didn't hear it and smirked to herself. She deeply enjoyed tormenting her etiquette advisors. But they were right. She did need more practice with the shem dancing—mostly because her feet kept slipping into a Dalish dance from her youth. How scandalous it'd be if Rosa stumbled in full public view like that. Creators forbid, the Orlesians might have a spot of fun dancing if they took up the Dalish jig.


Solas tilted his head, squinting his eyes at the latest panel in his fresco. The scene was inspired by the battle at Adamant Fortress and he couldn't quite get the right shade of orange. He'd begun it a half dozen times only to paint over it in white and start over. First it was too orange. Then it was too tawny. Then it was lackluster and seemed more gray or green. So he returned to the hues, acquired more herbs from the apothecary, or even walked out into the mountains around Skyhold, trying to find the right pigments.

This time it finally seemed right. He smeared more onto the wall, each stroke of his hand smooth and practiced, slow and deliberate. He didn't flinch or stop when he heard the rotunda door open and footsteps thump in. One of them had a cadence he knew well and the slap of bare flesh that brought a small smile to his lips—though he wiped it away a moment later. He lowered the brush and his palette, pivoting round to see Rosa stride in with Vivienne, Josephine, and Leliana behind her.

He lifted one brow. "Is it time for the dancing lessons already?"

"Yep," Rosa replied, terse as she usually was during her etiquette lessons. The rotunda was the most private spot they had for lessons like this that was also fairly spacious. She shouted up to the second story. "Dorian? Are you there?"

"Of course, old girl," the Tevinter answered and then a moment later his feet sounded on the stairs.

A few other scouts—and Fiona—peeked over the railing from the upper levels as they always did for Rosa's dance lessons. The rotunda wasn't really private so much as it was less likely to display Rosa's lessons to passing visitors or traveling merchants and nobles. They could ensure only Inquisition members witnessed it here. And, aside from that, shutting down the main hall would be virtually impossible with far too many entrances and exits to secure.

Solas walked back to his desk and, making a show of being somewhat reluctant—best not to let on how much he actually enjoyed this daily interruption—he grunted as he pushed his desk toward the wall. Rosa was behind him, kicking at the rug to push it aside, clearing the space of their miniature and makeshift ballroom. Leliana barred the door from the main hall with a groan of the ancient metal and wood. Vivienne, meanwhile, walked beneath the scaffolding and placed her hands on her hips as she stared down at the assortment of instruments they'd started storing here some weeks ago for these lessons.

"What do you think, darling?" she asked, addressing Josephine, who moved to stand behind her. "How should we set the tempo today?"

"Hmm," Josephine hummed, thinking aloud. "The fiddle."

Vivienne smiled in smug agreement. "Just what I was thinking, my dear." She stooped and took up the worn, coarse grained violin. Pivoting on her heeled boot, Vivienne extended it out toward Leliana. "Would you do the honors, Sister Nightingale?"

"Of course," Leliana agreed, accepting the instrument. She rested it in place on her shoulder and plucked at a few strings, testing how in-tune it was.

Solas rested his rump on his desk, now shoved against the wall, and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched the lesson begin in earnest. Rosa took up a spot in the center of the rotunda with Dorian standing beside her, picking at his nails. After weeks being "cultured" by so many humans, Rosa's posture was comfortable—albeit a bit impatient, judging by the tap of her fingers against one thigh.

Leliana finished tuning and then set the bow to the string. The rotunda echoed with an Orlesian tune, slow but pretty, timeless in its own way. The music might be mere mortal, not enhanced with magic, but Solas still smiled at the pleasant sound. He identified the type of dance that should accompany the song just as Rosa did, turning to take Dorian's hands. The Tevinter adopted the same pose immediately. Most of the dances performed in the south were similar enough or identical to the dances of the Empire, meaning he could act as both teacher and partner for Rosa.

"Very good," Josephine congratulated them. "Now, let me see Lady Lavellan dance in the male role."

Rosa and Dorian switched positions and then began the slow step, fluid and surefooted. Rosa stumbled a few times, halting and frowning as she struggled to make a transition. Dorian, however, made similar errors, though he was smoother in his recovery. He hummed with the tune and smirked as he did a feminine turn.

"Footwork, darling," Vivienne coached, clucking her tongue. "The leader must lead. With confidence."

Rosa flashed a hard smile at the enchanter. "Why am I practicing both male and female steps again?" she complained.

"We cannot know who may wish to dance with you," Josephine explained. "It simply would not do for you to be unprepared should a noblewoman—or the Empress herself—request a dance. You would play lead to the Empress, and that would be the male role."

"Like anyone is going to want to dance with a knife-ear sort-of apostate," Rosa protested.

"They'll dance with you simply to see if you can," Dorian told her as he continued their slow-stepping path around the rotunda. "Or because they are bored. Regardless, they'd quite like to see you fail and make a fool of yourself. Better you dazzle them, no matter what they throw at you."

Solas couldn't hear the pouty sigh Rosa let out from his distance but he could see it in the way her shoulders rose and fell. They made another circuit around the room before Vivienne clapped her hands and called for Leliana to change the tune. The spymaster did as she was ordered, picking a different song with a jauntier rhythm.

This was where everyone knew Rosa struggled. Solas recognized a dance that had similar footwork as the Dalish jig he'd last seen her use in Crestwood months ago in the spring. The issue was that Rosa kept slipping into the Dalish dance at transitions. Vivienne, Josephine, Leliana, and Dorian were all trying to break her of that bad habit.

Dorian dropped the first song's footwork and stance. Rosa followed suit, lips twisting down and brow furrowing with concentration. They locked arms and began a lazy, graceful circle in time to the fiddle. Vivienne nodded with approval and Josephine wrung her hands, watching as the first transition took place.

Rosa handled it well, maintaining the slower footwork of the Orlesian dance, rather than edging into the faster Dalish version. Dorian grinned at her. "Perfect! We'll make you a belle of the ball yet, Inquisitor."

She snorted, but despite his distraction her feet didn't falter.

"Now take the lead, my dear," Vivienne said.

Rosa and Dorian parted a moment, repositioning. Now Rosa led the steps, taking on the task of setting the pace. Her expression was tight with concentration as she moved. Solas could see her actively fighting instinct borne from a lifetime dancing the Dalish version of this jig. He smiled, enjoying the natural grace of her fluid movement, regardless of the dance employed.

"Flawless," Josephine praised, clapping her hands.

The compliment made Rosa stumble a little and she frowned, determination doubling with the tension in her features. Dorian smirked at her, continuing to follow her lead as they broke and reversed direction in another lazy circle. "Having trouble?" he asked, teasing.

Her only response was to glare.

Vivienne clucked her tongue. "Mind the mask, darling."

"I'm not wearing one," Rosa said.

"Your face, old girl," Dorian said, daring to tease his mustache with his other hand not involved in holding onto Rosa currently, even though that broke the lines of the dance. "She means your expression. You must make it look easy. You look as though this is a battlefield."

"It is," Rosa snapped.

"Precisely," Dorian said as they released again and pulled back from one another to sweep into bows. When he rose once more he added, "But on this battlefield you must pretend it's effortless."

Rosa flashed a tight, fake smile on her lips as she and Dorian drew close again and locked elbows. "Better?"

"Hardly," Dorian said, sighing. "In fact, it might be worse."

"Orlais can take their grand game and shove it up a high dragon's ass," she bemoaned through a smile that looked marginally less artificial and strained.

"That would be entertaining to watch," Dorian said, laughing.

It was close to another half hour before Josephine, Vivienne, and Leliana were satisfied enough to end the lesson. Onlookers from the second story clapped and one young man whistled. Rosa gave a mock-bow and then waved at everyone. "All right, back to work. Nothing to see here. Show's over."

Solas took that as his cue to begin resetting the furniture. Leliana returned the violin to its spot tucked away beneath the scaffolding while Vivienne excused herself, accompanying Dorian back up the stairs to the second level. Josephine lingered with Rosa, helping maneuver the rug and Solas' desk back into place.

"Have you finished selecting your companions for the journey to Halamshiral, Inquisitor?" the ambassador asked.

"Well," Rosa said, grunting as she pulled while Solas pushed, sliding the desk into place. "I was thinking obviously Vivienne should come with me."

"An excellent choice," Josephine said, nodding. "Any others? I understand Sera and the Iron Bull have both volunteered, but I would advise against—"

"Definitely," Rosa interrupted, grinning. "I want to see the court squirm when they see how many savages I'm bringing. Myself included, of course."

Josephine stammered, faltering a bit. "Are you certain? It may be—perhaps it is unwise to bring a Qunari spy and a rather uncouth rogue who is affiliated with a large group of organized thieves into the Empress's court."

"I'm afraid I must agree with Ambassador Montiliyet," Solas piped up. He stood at the corner of his desk now, hands tucked behind his back. "She makes an excellent point regarding both the Iron Bull and Sera."

Rosa sighed, frowning. "Yeah, sure, but the Bull is such a fighter I kind of want him there as my bodyguard."

"You will not want for protection, Inquisitor," Josephine reassured her. "Cassandra will be along by request of the Grand Clerics, so I have already made plans for her to attend your retinue. And Commander Cullen will be present at all times, of course, as will Leliana's scouts."

"Neither Cassandra or Cullen are also a spy, though," Rosa pointed out. "That's one thing I really like about both Sera and Iron Bull. They read people better than Cassandra, Blackwall, Cullen, and you, with all due respect. That's the sort of insight I need at a place like Halamshiral."

Solas blinked, surprised by that wisdom, and felt himself smiling slightly in approval. Rosa shot him a knowing look and he at once tried to wipe his approval away to become a blank apostate again.

Josephine's shoulders sank as she seemed to accept defeat. "Very well then. Should I add the Iron Bull and Sera to your roster then?"

"And Solas," Rosa said, jerking her chin toward him.

"You as well, Master Solas?" she asked in her usual way, always pleasant with respect.

Solas smiled as he nodded to her. "If the Inquisitor wishes then I am happy to oblige."

"Maybe Cole too," Rosa murmured. "I mean, if you think that's a good idea?"

Josephine stared blankly, confused. "My apologies," she said after a moment. "But I am unclear who you mean."

Solas pinched his lips together to hide his knowing expression, both amused and irritated. It was clear the ambassador had forgotten about Cole. Rosa opened her mouth as though to explain and then seemed to think better of it. "Never mind," she said. "I think that's more than enough. I'll have plenty of muscle with Cassandra and Bull. Sera will be good on the rogue side. And we'll have a ton of magic with four mages."

Josephine's confused expression returned. "Four? There will be you, of course, and Lady Vivienne, and Master Solas. Who is the fourth? Do you intend to take Dorian?"

"Dorian's welcome to come," Rosa said, chuckling. "But I meant Tal. He's coming down to meet us on the road. I've been coordinating with Leliana's scouts to arrange it."

Solas kept his expression impassive at this, choosing now as the moment to return to sorting through the various texts on his desk. The idea of Tal returning wasn't entirely pleasant. The young man had not trusted him since learning he was "involved" with the Dread Wolf. Solas was entirely certain Tal would work hard to poison Rosa against him while he was around, too. It was a problem he'd spent the last few weeks considering, to no avail. When he wasn't sharing dreams with Rosa, Solas sometimes lurked at the edges of Tal's dreams, but he feared coming too close. Tal might recognize the feeling of him in the Fade. He was so accustomed to Dreamers shaping the Fade, and talented enough himself as a mage, that Solas expected tricking him would be difficult. Better not to try than to try and fail. Still, the temptation remained…

"Ah," Josephine said. "Very good. I'm certain Master Tal will make an excellent addition—though we must give him a few lessons as well before we attend the ball, I'm sure." She and Rosa began walking for the exit to the rotunda, leaving Solas to his work.

But, just before Rosa passed through the door that the ambassador held open for her, she turned and called to Solas in elven. "See you tonight?"

He looked up, momentarily caught off guard before he smiled. "Ma nuvenin," he replied.

She winked at him and then disappeared through the door. It groaned as it swung shut, leaving Solas alone with his work. Pushing his concerns about Tal aside, Solas delved into the obscure ancient Tevinter texts for several hours as the day wore on. He waited until the scouts, rookery attendants, Fiona, Leliana, and Dorian had all left for the day. Then, fatigued enough that his eyes were heavy, Solas put away his books and left the rotunda.

He found the main hall nearly empty, with only a few servants and scouts scurrying about on errands and tasks. Heading for the upper levels where the Inquisitor's inner circle had bedrooms, Solas was just about to take on invisibility in the stairwell and double back to go to the Inquisitor's chambers when he felt a tug on him. The jerk on his soul came through the Veil from the Fade. Only the strongest Dreamers could perform a waking summons with the Veil in place. Aside from himself, Solas knew of only two others strong enough to do it: Rosa and Zevanni.

Alarm made his heart pound. He continued toward his official bedroom, silently apologizing to Rosa that he would be late or would not attend her tonight at all. They could still meet in dreams, of course, but he must see was so urgent Zevanni would summon him like this.

Entering his room, Solas shut the door swiftly and summoned a small Veilfire spark to light the space as he lay down. Then he closed his eyes and let the Veilfire fade, plunging everything into darkness. The Fade took him in, hungry as a lover, and Solas let himself follow the strong tug through shapeless gray-green mists.

Then the mists cleared and Solas found himself standing on dank, green stone. Water sounds trickled through the space, splashing somewhere out of his sight. Green Veilfire burned in a brazier on a collapsed column to Solas' left. To his right stood a statue of a hooded faceless figure clutching an offering bowl. Water glinted inside it, but for an instant it turned crimson.

"Hahren," Zevanni's voice spoke behind him.

Solas turned to her and dipped his head in acknowledgement. "What news?"

His agent wore grimy leather armor and her dark hair was disheveled. Her brown eyes looked too big in her face, haunted. "I breached the temple of Dirthamen," she reported, using elven.

Solas nodded, encouraging her to continue. He recognized his surroundings now that she mentioned it. This was the sanctum of the temple, now overflowing with water. Massive magic sealed doors stood on the other side of the platform, behind Zevanni.

She sniffed, standing stiff, and continued in elven. "It took time to gain entry," she said, her tone one of apology. "But the temple is now ours."

Weeks ago Solas had asked Zevanni to research the strange eluvian he glimpsed in Xebenkeck's thoughts. Much to Solas' regret, Zevanni's search for answers turned up nothing. So, with no other leads than the certainty that the mirror had something to do with Dirthamen's temple, Zevanni stalked it and waited for a chance to forge inside. Now that clan Manaria had left, escorting Tal south to meet with Rosa for the ball at Halamshiral, she was certain to have found something. The idea had Solas' muscles snapping taut with anticipatory dread.

Now Zevanni frowned and gazed down at her bare feet. "Var and I have found a sealed mosaic. It will not grant us entry. The magic remains strong. We cannot pass. In desperation, I acquired the remains of the former high priest." She shook her head. "The magic is not easily deceived. It is Evanuris magic. It tastes of Falon'Din, not Dirthamen. The high priest's body was useless to us for his flesh. But his memories linger here…"

The archaic accent Zevanni used and the different rhythm of her speech now made sense. Solas nodded his understanding. "You imbibed his knowledge."

Using the Fade and some herbs, Zevanni had absorbed the high priest's essence—his soul—trapped as it was by the other crazed disciples of Dirthamen. It was a technique long lost to mortals, though it was much like what spirits and demons did as they read dreamers. Performing it was always unpleasant as it mirrored possession, implanting another consciousness inside one's head. Zevanni spoke in elven now and with a different speech pattern because she was partly Doshiel, high priest of Dirthamen. That influence would fade over time, but for now…

She pinched her lips together. "Yes. It was rather harrowing, but there was no choice."

"And what have you learned?" Solas asked, slipping into elven as well.

Her jaw clenched. "The chamber beyond the mosaic is for performing Falon'Din's ritual summoning. It is the Eluvian of the Void. The mosaic opens only for the chosen of Lethanavir and selected disciples of Dirthamen. Only shadow and reflection together may gain entry."

Solas felt his chest constrict. The magic was intended to open for those with Falon'Din's gift and Dirthamen's blood. The intention was that Falon'Din and Dirthamen would send priests and acolytes to work together on the ritual within. But Tal was the direct descendant of both Evanuris. The magic would open for him and only him. Rosa did not possess Falon'Din's gift. She wouldn't gain entry without his aid.

"The Eluvian of the Void," Solas quoted the high priest.

Zevanni nodded, her expression somber. "Doshiel witnessed the ritual use of the mirror many times. The power of the Lethanavir pulls the souls of the dead into the mirror where they may be held and questioned."

Solas scowled. He'd never been fully convinced that Falon'Din actually summoned the souls of the dead. He could enslave them at the moment of death, certainly, but to pluck one from the Void? That seemed impossible, even for an Evanuris. Yet it was no secret that was what everyone believed Falon'Din could do. And, somehow, this secret from Elvhenan had been dredged up out of the depths of time by the Formless One and given to Tal to use.

"The souls must be forced to speak," Zevanni said. "Disciples of Dirthamen are the only ones who can do this."

"With their compulsion," Solas finished, grimly. He shook his head. "The Inquisitor possesses Dirthamen's compulsion."

Zevanni's unblinking stare was grave, and Solas knew most of it was her and not Doshiel's influence. "Conspiracy," she said. "The Forgotten Ones' generals cast a grand spell."

"But to what end?" Solas asked, still frowning deeply. It made no sense. Why would the Formless One and the other Forbidden Ones try to pit the Inquisitor against Fen'Harel? Were they simply trying to force his hand into freeing their masters? Tearing down the Veil sooner than he planned? Yet, if that was the case, why the secrecy? This had been hidden from him when it should have been flaunted as a threat to make him come forward to bargain with them. Perhaps they merely were positioning themselves strategically and trying to strip Solas of future allies? Tal had allied with the Formless One to become the demons' puppet in the dark future. Was this the same play?

Whatever happened, the Forbidden Ones knew only Solas could free their masters the Forgotten Ones and tear down the Veil.

"They may seek to limit my allies," Solas surmised aloud. "To curtail my power before the Veil is destroyed."

Zevanni shrugged. "I cannot say. This conspiracy has been laid with great care."

Greater than you know, Solas thought sourly. He recalled Rosa's use of the compulsion on him and wondered how long she possessed it—yet he was certain he knew the answer. She had carried the talent dormant until Imshael must have awakened it. His timing now made Solas sneer and his hands clench into fists. The demons had been stalking and planning something for a long time.

And he thought he knew what that something was—exposing him as both Dread Wolf and Felassan's killer. After all, there was only one soul he could think of the siblings would be interested in summoning to the Void Eluvian. But Tal could not complete the ritual without Rosa, apparently, and she had not gone to the temple's restricted area. The demons' plan had failed, at least in part.

"I believe I know how to thwart it," Solas murmured, staring off at the large pool of putrid black water around the platform. At Zevanni's hopeful expression he shook his head. "Unfortunately I cannot enact it as quickly as I would like." He could not risk jeopardizing his relationship with Rosa and the Inquisition before the journey to Orlais. He needed her on his side at least until he had secured the eluvians Briala currently possessed. Then he would need to confess and hope she did not order her Inquisition to seize and execute him.

"What do you wish of me now, hahren?" she asked.

Solas considered her a moment and then spoke in elven, "Seek out any sign of Imshael, Xebenkeck, Gaxkang, and Raselan. Quietly. See what clues to this conspiracy you can find."

Zevanni dropped into a bow, much deeper than she usually did with him. "It will be done, hahren."

Solas hesitated a moment as she righted herself and shot her a tight smile. "Take some time, falon, to recover yourself as well."

She fidgeted. "Yes, hahren."


"Manaria will be about here around the beginning of Firstfall," Tal said as he pointed to the map of Thedas Rosa had conjured out of Fade ether. "We'll wait here and fish from the Waking Sea ands the marshes around it until the Inquisition shows up."

Rosa nodded. "That's a sound plan. Lavellan fishes the Waking Sea sometimes a little earlier in the season and further east. There are always fish spawning around that time so they're everywhere and easy to catch."

Tal chuckled. "That's the idea." He smirked. "We have like five eliflings coming in the next year. So we need all the food we can get to keep the lot of them fat and happy through winter."

"Manaria is growing then," Rosa said, warm at the idea. "I'm thrilled to hear that, da'isamalin." She chuckled a beat and then sobered slightly as the next question burned at the tip of her tongue—especially when Tal blushed and focused on the map, unusually bashful. "I'm not going to be an aunt next year, am I?"

Tal let out a tight chuckle of his own and rubbed the back of his neck. "Officially, no."

Rosa frowned, confused. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Tal shut his eyes and let out a breath. "It means she's not told me she's pregnant yet, but I know she's missed her courses." He was blushing at the awkward conversation. "And I remember what you were like at the start and she's the same, but worse."

"Worse?" Rosa asked, shaking her head.

"She's tired all the time and feels sick a lot. More than you did, I think. Or maybe she just doesn't hide it as well. I don't know." He crossed his arms over his chest and swayed from one foot to the other with obvious anxiety. "Honestly, I want to be thrilled and excited, but I'm mostly just terrified. Like I did this to her and…" He frowned, cursing. "Fuck, asamalin. I don't know how to be a father. I was hoping I was sterile or she was barren, or that it wouldn't happen as fast as it has."

"It takes some time to adjust," Rosa told him, reaching out to lay a hand on his shoulder. "But I'm not the least bit surprised it happened so fast. Our family seems to be excessively fertile." She couldn't help but laugh dryly at her own comment.

"Yeah," Tal said, smirking as he at last lifted his gaze to meet hers. "Comes from babae, probably."

"And both of our mothers," Rosa reminded him. "What was it you told me two years ago when it was me? We're a family of bastards." She squeezed Tal's shoulder and laughed full-throated now. "Congratulations, little brother. You've officially created the first not bastard child in our family."

"Babae wasn't a bastard, I don't think," Tal put in. "At least not in the illegitimate child aspect. So it's not that great an accomplishment. But, speaking of babae…" He let the words drag out, the implication unspoken.

This was the part of their meeting she had dreaded. Rosa pulled her hand back from her brother's shoulder and waved the map of Thedas away. Now she was the one who crossed her arms over her chest as she regarded Tal and mulled over what she wanted to say. Tal, however, wasn't patient enough to wait for her to figure it out.

"You haven't learned anything from Solas, have you?"

She rolled her eyes and grumbled, "Not really. Are you happy?"

"No," Tal told her earnestly. "No, I'm not. I predicted you wouldn't get anywhere with him from the start, but I hoped I was wrong." He appeared honestly wounded at her comment. "I'm not standing here trying to sabotage your relationship with him. I'm trying to help. Solas is enslaved by Fen'Harel, one way or another. He isn't going to settle down with you the way you want him to. I know you know that and it's killing you."

He moved closer to her, his brown eyes dark with sympathy. "Do you know how much I dreaded telling you just now about Nola? You took it really well but I think this is why Nola isn't coming out saying she's pregnant to me, too. She knows what happened to you. She knows I'm your younger brother. Me having a kid before you is weird. She doesn't want to put me in that position where I tell you that, but we have to do what's right for the survival of the clan first so…" He shrugged, flushing. "Baby making it was. And I'm sorry. It's not fair."

Rosa found she couldn't quite look Tal in the eye. Slowly, she shook her head. "You have nothing to apologize for, so please, don't. If I wanted to have a child I could do it any time. Just take off my charm and bed one of the humans or one of the elven scouts."

Tal scoffed. "You and I both know that's not what you want. I know you, Rosa. You'd never make babies with a human because it stamps out the People's blood. You don't settle. Well, almost never. You were going to settle with Han. You still could. I don't think it'd make you happy but…"

She shook her head. "It's not about what makes me happy. I have a greater responsibility now." Lifting her left hand, she tugged on the mark inwardly and it crackled, flashing green. She let it fade a moment later, her point clear. "Whether I like it or not, I should be like the fucking Divine and just be celibate. You're free and I want you to enjoy it. I'm glad you can." She smiled, bittersweet but genuine. "At least one of us gets to be First and live a long, happy life surrounded by our clan and our children. You deserve it after the misery you suffered growing up in your birth clan."

"Fuck deserving it," Tal snarled. "You don't have to settle, Rosa. You can save Thedas as Inquisitor and then Solas can take off the Anchor and then you're free, too. Then what do you want?" He lifted a hand, motioning for her to stop before she spoke. "Wait, don't tell me. I know what you want. You want Solas. You want him to give up sucking the Dread Wolf's cock so he can settle down with you like me and Nola. You want to make a little slice of heaven for you and him right here on Thedas."

Rosa sighed. "That would be nice, but…" She shook her head. "It isn't going to happen."

"And who says?" Tal asked and then, again, motioned for her to stay quiet. "Oh, wait. I know. Fen'Harel. Because Solas belongs to him, not you. And whatever plan he has it's going to pound Solas into the ground like me hammering a nail into one of our aravels. Solas is a soldier and he isn't going to stop and become anything else unless we make him."

Rosa shot Tal a glare. "Make him? That sounds like you think we should be tyrants, dictating how Solas should live." She scowled, vehement. "I won't do that to him. And I won't help you do that to him. Whatever our motives, it's always selfish in the end. It's not right."

Tal heaved a longsuffering sigh. "That's not what I'm saying. I'm saying Fen'Harel is the problem. We have to kill him. Without Fen'Harel at the helm, Solas can sail his own ship. He can choose you. Right now he can't."

This was what Rosa had known Tal would say eventually. Her chest was tight and hot with dread. "I don't think trying to kill one of the Creators is a sound strategy."

Tal's look twisted into a frown. "You and I both know that whatever his plans are, they're bad. Like really bad. Babae didn't seem to think the Conclave was a big deal. So what kind of end game does that suggest if the Conclave was just the appetizer?" He squared his shoulders and his jaw, his eyes narrowing hard. "You have a responsibility as Inquisitor to deal with this. As Inquisitor and our father's daughter. I have that same responsibility and more now with Nola. You and I are probably the only ones who can fight Fen'Harel because of who and what we are."

"You've let the Crown go to your head," Rosa growled.

"And you've let fear hold you back from the hard truth that we need to deal with this." Tal glowered at her, nostrils flaring, eyes searching her.

She looked away, holding her breath a moment. Tal was right, in a way. She was afraid. Constantly. Afraid of making the wrong decision and losing the fight to save Thedas from Corypheus. Afraid of falling into a trap laid for her by either Fen'Harel or the Forbidden Ones or Corypheus. Afraid of losing her friends and family with her own recklessness. Afraid of dying before she had saved Thedas from Corypheus. Afraid of seeing Solas die for the Dread Wolf's ideals. Afraid that her association with the wolf god and his eggheaded general was unwittingly bringing about greater disaster to Thedas.

And yet, she also feared that resisting Fen'Harel would be worse for the People, for a future where Elvhenan rose again. Even if Rosa was long dead and never saw it, perhaps Tal, Nola, and their child or children would get to enjoy it. Solas had told her many times that Fen'Harel's way was the only one that would save the People from a slow path to extinction—though he was cagey about how and why. Yet Rosa didn't need much proof to believe the People were dying, squished like bugs beneath the boot of the shemlen.

"I'll give this some thought," she said at last. "And I'll try to get something more from Solas. I haven't given up yet."

And when that fails?" Tal pressed. "Will you help me?"

"If that fails," Rosa said, sucking in a sharp breath. "I will journey with you to the temple, as I've said before. But I won't coerce lenalin into speaking the truth. I won't do it. We owe him more than that."

"Then why bother agreeing you'll come with me at all?" Tal asked, less resentful and more bemused by her response.

"Because I want to see this creature you think is our father's soul. I want to see what's got you so convinced and spooked." She swallowed, feeling a lump in her throat. "And if I think it's really him, I'll say goodbye."

Slowly Tal sighed but nodded. "All right. I guess that's good enough for me."

"I still think what you saw couldn't be lenalin," Rosa commented.

"It was him," Tal muttered, grief clouding his face. "You'll believe it when you—"

Rosa gasped as the Fade jerked on her and the dreamscape faded. Tal stared at her, confused. He reached out for her, but his hands passed through her forearms. Rosa tried to reassure him as she felt herself slipping out of the Fade and back to her physical body, but it was already too late.


Next Chapter

She bit her lip, nodding to herself as both frustration at his stubbornness and grief at hearing what she'd already known he'd say tore her apart. "Do you report everything back to your master?"

Solas was silent long enough that she opened her eyes and stared at him, frowning. The conflicted expression he wore seemed off somehow in a way she couldn't pinpoint. "Do you?" she pressed.

A/N: OK, I *know* you're all like damn! Why did you cut it there?! All I can say is sorry! I didn't have a better spot before it got longer. And next update will be some NSFW goodness!Also, whee! How many foresaw babyTal coming? The first non-bastard descendant of Felassan!

On the delay: I don't write much on weekdays so those are usually a wash but I did write like two and a half chapters on this only to decide I hated what I wrote for the first chapter and it needed to move faster. So I thought about jumping just straight to Halamshiral but I needed to lay some groundwork to get Solas primed for our endgame. And then I didn't like the ending to this chapter (which was my second chapter initially) as I didn't want to go into Halamshiral with the angst train and I know I owe some NSFW sexy times. So I reworked it and made it much more lighthearted. But then it got too long and I was like SH*T. So I split it. Next chapter will go up on schedule.

I am still contemplating putting up my alternative reality version of this story where Tal is Inky. Trouble is that I write on that one only one in a blue moon as I have to use my creative fuel for this story and my original work. So that one wouldn't be updated with any predictability and I just didn't want to do that. But I still might if I encounter another delay on this one. As kind of an apology. Or if I get enough people who would find that entertaining.

Anyway, until next time!