Chapter 13: Some Convincing

On the fourth day, Lavellan sat huddled in a blanket by the fire, nursing a cup of tea.

"I take it you did not sleep well?" Alarion asked, yawning as he stretched his back before sitting beside her for breakfast.

"Hardly a wink. I was too stressed over today's meeting. And now I'm so tired and my body aches all over. I'm turning into an old man like you."

"Nonsense. I'm not even an old man yet. Look at your intended; now there's an elf who claims to be positively ancient. Yet he looks half my age and likely has never had a backache in his life. You'd be lucky to turn out like me. Bun?"

She shook her head, feeling sick at the thought of food. "No, I'm good with the tea. Thank you though. And if I turned out like you, I'd eat half the clans out of their food stores with an appetite like yours."

"You should still eat," Alarion told her, peeling a boiled egg.

"I told you, I have no stomach for it at the moment."

"Are you feeling ill again?"

She turned to see Solas standing there, looking at her with concern. Sighing, she shrugged. "A little. But I think it's the stress. I didn't sleep well either."

"Yes, you were right about the amorous couples. I had to set silencing charms to sleep myself," he replied dryly.

"Ah, yes. The joys of nomadic life and the complete lack of privacy," she commented under her breath, sipping her tea.

Alarion laughed, then got up to fix himself a cup of tea and hunt around for a more substantial breakfast.

"Are you going to be alright today?" Solas asked.

"I'll manage. The tea is helping. Ginger and lemon. Want some?" she offered, knowing he would turn his nose up in disgust.

He did precisely that, scrunching his nose. "No, thank you. Though let me know if there is anything I can do for you."

"Will you rub my shoulders and go to the meeting today without me?"

"The first request I can do," he said, sitting behind her and gripping her shoulders. "But I dare not go into that meeting without my bodyguard to protect me."

"Protect you? No way. You're a god. You're supposed to protect me."

"I am not a god. But I will always protect you, vhenan," he said, brushing aside her hair as his fingers rolled over the knotted muscles of her neck.

She relaxed against him as he relieved the tension and knots in her shoulders.

The knots in her stomach were not so easily addressed, however, and when Alarion came by later, adorned in his Peace Keeper ensemble to collect them for the meeting, she shivered and felt like she was going to be sick as they approached the amphitheater.

The amphitheater itself was crumbling in many places, though that mattered little for its purposes. Large trees shaded the area above and provided some privacy from view. Magical wards kept out unwanted onlookers who lacked the proper privileges to attend. The Council of Clans was already assembled by the time they arrived. So too were the Hahrens, or respected elders.

Solas studied the faces, recognizing one or two from their journeys.

"Keepers, Hahrens, and honored guests," Alarion began, bowing his head to the assembly as the groups quieted for the introductions. They all looked down from their seats with a mixture of expressions as Alarion spoke. Some strained around the others for a better look at the god in their midst. "It is my honor to introduce our Ambassador to the Council of Clans, who is here today to present the proposed alliance between the Dalish and Fen'Harel. May I also, therefore, present to you, Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf of legend."

Solas followed Lavellan's lead and bowed his head to the Council and Hahrens. Picking the clan Keepers out from their garb and vestment colors set them apart. But to his surprise, the Hahrens, or respected elders, bore similar features to his own and were not gray-haired like the rest. It was then that he began to comprehend a secret of the Dalish. Such an obvious piece he should have realized it sooner. The Hahrens were not gray-haired Dalish elves respected for their wisdom. They were Elvhen: ancient elves from the time of Arlathan or before. These elves were unlike the rest of the Dalish: mortals born from generations of other mortals. These were true elves, like himself. Elves who had somehow survived the Exalted March and the many raids and attempts to exterminate the elven people. There were not many, but from the shapes of their eyes, ears, and brows, he could tell that these were people from his time. People who had not slept the millenia away, but had lived through the bloody history of the elves. Countless questions plagued his mind.

A Keeper with a stern brow stood from his seat. "What proof do we have that this is Fen'Harel? Anyone may claim the name in the hopes of inciting fear and terror in the hearts of others. Where is the proof of his godhood, if such a thing even exists?" the man sneered down his nose at Solas.

And so it begins, Lavellan thought to herself, resisting the urge to shock the Keeper with a bolt of lightning. "Keeper Barastran Sin'al, as you will recall from the Dreamwalk I presented two months ago, this man admitted to being the true Fen'Harel. You will also recall that he took great strides to renounce claims of divinity or godhood in his battles against the Evanuris. Now, if you please, unless you want him to smite someone in this room, I think you have seen plenty of evidence to believe this man is the true Fen'Harel. That he is a tangible person before you should be enough evidence for us to proceed. Now, be seated and let us continue."

The Keeper sat, but to her surprise another person stood to speak: a Hahren she did not know. He bore the vallaslin of June, and his eyes were grey and hooded. When he lifted his hand, there were but three fingers upon it. He pointed straight at Solas. "I did not think you would return to this world after what you did," he said in a low, trembling voice that barely concealed his anger. "This is indeed Fen'Harel. I swear it upon my very life. I swear it upon all those who died because of the Dread Wolf's betrayal." The room fell silent as he approached Solas, seething with rage. "I swear it upon the blood of my dead brethren, this is the monster who slew them." Hate burned in his eyes. "Have you nothing to say for yourself or your crimes, Dread Wolf? Do you even remember those you have wronged? I promise, I have not forgotten you." A ball of fire burst from his fingertips.

Solas did remember. "Yes, lethallin. I remember the day I removed your vallaslin and you gained your freedom from your former masters. And yet you wear it upon your face yet again. Falin'nadan. Is that your name still?" He spoke calmly, hoping to deescalate the situation.

"You… know him?" Alarion asked, surprised.

"Yes. He was one of the slaves who came to me seeking freedom and sanctuary. Which I provided. I also removed his vallaslin, which marked him as a slave."

"You speak of slavery as if you know of it," the Hahren spat. "I lived for ages under the rule of masters, good and terrible. You know nothing of it. I came to you for aid and you took my markings and made me believe your cause was just. But then you turned on all of us. The Great Betrayer. The Liar. The one who sundered the world and brought about the end for the elves. So much death. I have watched them die by the thousands."

"You call me the liar? From the looks of the Keepers' faces, it is you who has lied. You who have betrayed your own with your lies, hiding in plain sight all these long years. I did what I could to save our people, Falin'nadan. The Evanuris would have destroyed the world and all who lived within it had I not intervened."

"And so you destroyed it yourself. Yes, I have lied. I had to lie. I had to hide myself away. We all did," he gestured to the other Hahrens, some of whom did not like being grouped in with his assertion. "It was lie or be killed. Lie or be exiled. Lie or be enslaved. I took back the vallaslin to remember my brothers and sisters and honor the dead. Never again shall I submit to slavery. But never again shall I forget those who are dead because of you."

"And what of those who toiled away under your master's rule? Or those who lie entombed in the grand monuments to June? They left the corpses in the walls when they fell dead from exhaustion, forced to work until their bodies gave out and not even the Fade could sustain them. That is the world the Evanuris created. And it is why I locked them away. Because in their lust for power and glory they would have destroyed this world and killed everyone in it."

The Keeper Barastran Sin'al stood abruptly. "And yet you plan to remove the Veil and let the Evanuris back into this world? Where will we be then? If anything the Evanuris would be enraged by your betrayal and would seek to destroy you and all your allies."

Lavellan crossed the room to stand before him. "Where would we be? The question is, what choice do we have? Pray that the Evanuris see fit to spare us as they destroy the world? They will not. Hahren," she said, turning to the man who glowered at Solas. "If what you claim is true, then you know firsthand how terrible the Evanuris were. Or the people who served them and forced you into slavery. Our people have vowed never to submit to slavery again. And yet Tevinter kidnaps and murders our people even now. Fereldan and Orlais claim peace with us and yet my own clan was nearly wiped out at Wycombe thanks to the malicious actions of the humans in power there. Did you see the thousands of flowers tossed into the lake and burned? We are already fighting for our lives, every day." Her voice rose and her hands balled into fists. "I have fought false gods before and emerged victorious. I believe in the hearts of our people and the strength we have together. But we will need allies. The Evanuris will not offer us refuge or clemency. They will exterminate us if given the chance. Our only option is to prepare and fight when the time comes. Or there will not be another Arlathvhen in ten years. There may not even be a world where any can survive."

"As if he is any better! He betrayed us all! When he sundered the world, countless lives were lost!" Falin'nadan shouted, pointing his finger at Solas.

"Yes, to save those that I could save. The cost was high, but you and others survived when that would not have been the case otherwise," Solas said, his face grim. "You know the power that the Evanuris have. When the Veil is lifted they will return. And they will use the Dalish and force them into slavery again."

"They will not succeed," said a keeper in blue robes. "We will never let that happen to our people again."

"You will not have a choice in the matter," Solas said simply. "Perhaps, Falin'nadan, you recall the stories if you did not experience it yourself. But those marked with the vallaslin are vulnerable to the Evanuris."

"What are you talking about? It is a marking to honor the gods, nothing more," said a hahren with long blonde hair and the markings of Mythal upon her forehead.

Solas shook his head and a shadow passed over his face. "No. They are a brand binding their subjects to their will. In your case, Mythal or one of her generals could use the mark bound by your blood to force you to serve or fight under her will."

"This is fearmongering. There is no proof that is true," the Hahren with long blonde hair said, flinging her hair over her shoulder in a dismissive gesture.

But Falin'nadan looked uneasily at Solas as sweat broke out over his forehead. "I heard stories… I never thought they were true. I thought the removal was symbolic-" he froze, touching his own face as fear lit up in his eyes.

"What do you mean?" the keeper in blue robes asked.

"There were stories… Tales from the outskirts where June was building… something. People would disappear from their homes and their masters would be furious. But then they would reappear, building mindlessly, without breaks or sleep, until they dropped and their bodies gave out. My master lost three slaves one night. They got out of their beds and unlocked the gate and walked out into the dark… And they followed the others like them into the forest. My cousin was one of them. I never saw her again. My master said she died in service to June."

Solas nodded solemnly.

"Your master may have just sent them off to serve elsewhere," the keeper in blue robes suggested.

But Falin'nadan shook his head slowly, a haunted expression in his eyes. "No. He was furious he had lost three slaves." He turned to Solas and the fire in his hand died away as his hand fell to his side. "Is it true? Can they control us through the vallaslin?"

"Yes. Some may resist, but the vallaslin is a way to control a person through a magical binding. Having one puts you at considerable risk that your own will may be overridden by the Evanuris."

"You dishonor us with these accusations, Dread Wolf!" the hahren with the long blonde hair snapped. "I, for one, will not believe it." Several others around her nodded in agreement.

"Shall I show you?" Solas asked, his voice calm. "I bear a piece of Mythal's power. With it, I can show you what the Evanuris are capable of."

She leveled her eyes at him. "Prove it. I have fought off worse demons than you, Dread Wolf."

Solas said nothing in response. His eyes glowed blue for a moment and the hahren with the long blonde hair and several other keepers and hahrens in the group all stood, their eyes vacant in their faces. All bore the vallaslin of Mythal in some form or another. They all walked to the front and stood in a line before Solas. Then they knelt before him. The rest of the room watched in horrified silence.

Lavellan felt her stomach turn over at the sight.

Solas's eyes flashed again and the people kneeling before him looked around, confused and frightened.

"That is how simple it would be for the Evanuris to take control of the Dalish. Clans and families would be torn apart and each person could lose their willpower over their own bodies. I will remove the vallaslin from all who wish and teach the Keepers who have enough power the spell to remove them for others."

"N-No! We should stop you! If that is what the Evanuris can do, we should keep the Veil in place. Leave it alone," the keeper in blue robes spluttered fearfully.

"This cannot be left alone," Lavellan said, stepping forward once more to help an elderly keeper to her feet. "The Veil is failing. Corypheus weakened it by tearing it apart. But many of you know the Veil is weak in some areas already. Others have felt the earthquakes, seen the tidal waves, and sensed the natural balance shifting. The Veil will fail. It is only a matter of time if it is left alone. That is why I must urge all of you here today to give your full support to the alliance with Fen'Harel and his cause. If the Veil fails on its own the world will be consumed by demons and the full might of the Evanuris. But if we work with Fen'Harel we may prepare and bring down the Veil in the manner it was created, thereby restoring what was lost. Spirits will not turn into demons, but may walk amongst us again and offer their knowledge. Magic will return and we will need our keepers to train those who have never had magic how to use it safely. And if we are lucky, we will restore the elves that were," she said, turning to Falin'nadan. Something teetering on hope shone in his eyes. "And perhaps, more will be restored. Our language, our history, our culture, and maybe even our longevity. Don't you see? Fen'Harel is not our enemy. We must work with him, if we are to have a chance at reclaiming what was lost to us in the fall of Arlathan. We must do this, for our past, our present, and our future. Or it will all be taken from us."

Many were silent and she could tell she had convinced some.

The keeper in the blue robes opened and shut his mouth several times, trying to find words that evaded him. "But-but how can we trust Fen'Harel? The Dread Wolf is a liar and he himself has admitted his betrayal of the gods! Surely he will betray us. All of his words may still yet be lies!"

"Yet he has been truthful and honest with you this whole time," Lavellan retorted, growing irritated. "He has come all this way and agreed to be a part of an alliance with the Dalish. He has agreed to the Council's terms, including bonding himself to a Dalish representative: to me. You have your proof of his word and it is as valid as any other agreement with an external party. Now will you ratify this alliance and begin working to restore the elves and all that we were or will you do nothing and reap the consequences?"

The keeper in blue robes shook his head at her, disbelieving. "You would bond yourself to Fen'Harel, Ambassador?"

"In a heartbeat. I would follow him into the heart of the Black City. I would follow him across the Void and through hellfire if that is where we must go. I am not afraid to bond myself to this man, Keeper. I would do anything for my people to survive, that I promise, but I am not afraid to bond myself to him. He has shown me his true character and I would be proud to stand at his side against any evil."

There was some debate after that, as there always is in bureaucratic politics. By the time it was done, Lavellan felt more exhausted than she had ever been in her entire life. But she had done it. The alliance was ratified. The time of the bonding ceremony was set for the next day when the sun was at its peak. On the day after their bonding they would teach the keepers how to remove the vallaslin and offer the spell to any who wished to partake.

Falin'nadan did not wait, however. Despite his earlier animosity, he had changed his tune and approached Solas after he had added his signature to the document, bowing his head low and requesting the spell once more. Solas obliged, and removed his vallaslin.

Solas watched the keepers finish adding their signatures to the agreement for an alliance and still could not believe his eyes. The Dalish had agreed. He gazed at his beloved with a new sense of awe and admiration. For all he had thought of the Dalish and their stubborn ways, she had managed to convince them to put their faith in him. Or perhaps, more likely, they were putting their faith in her. She was still the Inquisitor who had stopped gods before and healed the sky. She was a force in her own right: one he respected and cherished, for she was always a force for good.

Lavellan did not feel particularly elated by the end of all the signatures. When it was done she walked back up the steps of the amphitheater, exhausted and battle-weary. She swayed and Solas put an arm around her to steady her, alarmed.

"Vhenan? What is wrong?"

She leaned against him, resting her forehead against his chest briefly as she caught her breath. "Just tired. That's all."

"You must be hungry too," Alarion said, pulling an apple from his pocket and offering it to her. She waved the offer away, however, as she still did not have much of an appetite. Alarion looked at Solas with concern. "She didn't eat anything this morning. I told you, my dear, tea is not breakfast. And you should have eaten to keep up your strength," he chided.

Shaking her head, she pushed on, taking a few steps down the path. "No, I'll be fine. I just need water and some rest. My throat is…" Her voice trailed off though as she swayed again and fell to her knees. Sounds and images blurred around her, impossible to decipher before her vision faded to black.