Chapter 34: The Loose Ends

The rest of the day passed in utter chaos. All the inhabitants of Skyhold were moved back to the castle from Mercy's Rest now that it was safe. The bodies of those that had served Mythal were removed, along with those of the dead in Mercy's Rest, both friend and foe alike. While everything at Mercy's Rest was sorted, Lavellan retreated to Skyhold for some peace and recovery.

In Lavellan's own private quarters it was easy to forget all that had happened. Her body ached all over and despite her exhaustion, she sank into the warm water of her bath and cleaned herself as best she could. Solas helped, especially as they bathed their new baby girl together, gently wiping her skin clean. "She's the most wonderful little baby I've ever seen," Lavellan whispered, not for the first time that day. "She's just perfect."

"She is. Have you thought of a name that suits her yet?"

"Not yet. I am too tired and we have only just met. I feel we should give it some time to get to know one another," she said with a joyful smile up at him. Their daughter squirmed and began to fuss.

Solas picked her up and held her close to his chest. "There, there, da'len. What do you need?" he kissed her head and rocked her a bit, which seemed to help.

"Perhaps I could try feeding her?" she offered, pushing herself up from the tub.

"Careful! You are still not at full strength yet, vhenan," he said worriedly, setting their little girl down on the bed and hurrying over to help his partner.

"You fret too much," she said, although she accepted the hand he offered when stepping over the lip of the tub, as well as the robe that followed.

Settling on the bed with a pillow on her lap, she adjusted to help cradle the baby with Solas's aid. What was supposed to be the most natural thing in the world felt quite strange and unnatural to her at first once the baby latched on and started to feed. "Oh. Oh, that's odd," she said, laughing a little as she recalled her friends telling her how strange it was to experience the first time. "Look at her! She's got it all figured out, hasn't she?"

Solas cupped his baby's head, stroking her pointed ear. "You're both doing a wonderful job." He kissed her forehead and stood up from the bed. "Shall I try and find you something to eat? You must be hungry. I certainly am."

"You'd be depriving Abelas of his favorite chore, but alright," she said with a grin.

When Solas reached the bottom of the stairs there came a knock at the door. He opened it to find Josephine and Leliana eagerly peering over his shoulder. "Yes?"

"We've come to update the Inquisitor on Skyhold's sta-" Leliana began before Josphine cut her off.

"But really we've come to see the baby. Is she well? Can we come in?" she asked excitedly, her hands clapped together.

Solas called up to make sure Lavellan would accept visitors and the moment she said yes the two ladies brushed past him and hurried up the steps.

When they saw mother and baby feeding, the ladies gushed over how sweet they were together.

By the time Solas came back with a plate of food there was an entire party waiting outside her room.

"Can we come in already?" The Iron Bull asked in his gruff voice, banging on the door. He had a cask of ale under one arm.

"Oh fine, come on up," Lavellan called.

They all jammed through the doorway and up the stairs into her quarters. Lavellan put a finger to her lips and they all hushed, tiptoeing over to see the baby wrapped up in her arms.

"Aw, look at those tiny fingers," Bull said, offering his finger to the little baby to grab. The tiny fingers didn't even curl completely around his pointer. "What a strong grip you have," he said with a smile. "Oh yeah. Warrior for sure. Don't worry, I'll teach her everything she needs to know."

"That won't take long," Dorian said with a smirk, poking his head over Bull's shoulder to admire the newborn. "What's there to know? Hit, block, parry, don't get stabbed. Now Uncle Dorian will teach you how to do magic, which takes remarkably more knowledge and skill to master."

"Yeah, but if it wasn't for her mother's magic, I wouldn't even have this hand right now," Bull said, giving Dorian a pointed look. "My regular guy was off shooting fireballs at a… bad lady," he finished, choosing his words carefully.

Dorian looked indignant. "Yes, saving you all. Sorry I didn't happen to have a moment to spare to perform some miracle cure." He then turned to Lavellan and added out of the corner of his mouth, "Thank you for that, by the way. You'll have to tell me more about your enchantments and spell weaving when the dust settles. I'm practically burning with curiosity. And speaking of burning with curiosity," he said, raising his voice so that it carried. "I'm sure you're all dying to know how my battle with Vivienne went. Well, gather round and-Wait." He glanced around at the faces in the room. "Where's Varric? Wasn't he just behind us?"

"He's with Hawke and that glowy guy outside," Sera said, jerking her thumb back down in the hall. "Was anyone else creeped out when he stuck his whole hand in Inky's chest? Just like stuck it in or whatever, like it was normal?! I mean what was that, right?"

"Oh yeah! What was up with the glowing too? Why does he glow? Hey kadan, is that some sort of Fade thing?" he asked Dorian.

Dorian stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I believe it had more to do with lyrium. I've heard of magisters who experiment with lyrium on their slaves. It's possible he was one of them."

"I've heard these tales too," Zarrak said, leaning against the cask of ale and refilling his mug. "And there was one of the girls we rescued who said her brother died from some lyrium experiment. The one with the flower braids."

"Yeah, what's going on in Tevinter right now? They must be pissin' all over themselves with the Veil all gone or whatever." Sera gestured with her hand and everyone in the room stared.

"Oh there's bound to be revolts, we know the slaves were planning…" Dorian trailed off as his gaze also went to Sera's hand. "Um… Sera? What's happening with your hand?" he asked, trying to keep the panic from his voice.

"What?" Sera raised an eyebrow at him and then looked at the hand she had just gestured with. It was on fire. Not only was it on fire, the fire itself was the eerie sea-green color of veilfire. "Fuck!" she swore loudly, shaking her hand as if there was a spider on it that she wanted to get rid of. The fire dissipated like smoke when it hit the light coming in from the window. She stared at her hand in wide-eyed terror before glancing at the rest of them all in a panic. "What the bloody pissbags was that?" she asked, her voice unnaturally high. "Which of you did it?" she accused, looking at Dorian and Lavellan respectively. Both of them shook their heads, for they hadn't done anything.

From up on the dresser Cole laughed. Sera turned and shot him a glare. "What's so funny, demon?"

"It's not them. It's you. You called it to you and it came." He looked curiously at the rest of them. "Did you not mean to?" he asked Sera.

"What is he on about? I didn't do that. I don't do magic."

"Yes, you just did it. You called the light and it came to you. What's wrong?" Cole tilted his head, not quite understanding her reaction.

"What's wrong? I'm not magic! One of you lot must've done it. Not me!" she said, freaking out and inspecting her hand for strange markings.

"Sera… I think that it was you," Dorian said, curious to know more, but hesitating for fear of frightening Sera.

"But that's mad!" she said, rubbing at a bit of dried blood on her hand that she had missed.

"No… it isn't. Elves have always had a stronger connection to magic. Now with the Veil gone, it makes sense that certain… magical talents might appear in those that have never before had the gift," Dorian explained, crossing the room to inspect Sera's hand.

"Well I don't want it! I never asked for it! You did this!" she pointed accusingly at Solas, who sat on the bed beside his partner.

Solas's face remained solemn. "Yes. Dorian is correct. You may not realize it, but you're slowly reconnecting with your spiritual essence. What once was apart from you will now rejoin you. I am sorry. It must be a shock."

"Nuh uh! I never had no spirit whatever to begin with! I'm just normal."

"No, Sera. You are one of the People. A part of you was sundered from yourself in the Fade, but it was always there, no matter how you denied it. And now it has started to return."

"So what? I'm like all magey now? Can a demon possess me? Shit. Double triple shit. Tell me I'm not going to be host to some evil creepy crawly."

"It will be alright, Sera. We'll help you. And others like you. We still have plenty of mages here at Skyhold who have been trained to help guide those new to magic," Lavellan said, trying to offer some comfort.

"Yeah, or we could make you Tranquil," Dorian offered with a sadistic grin. "What? I said 'could' not 'would'," he said to the Inquisitor when she shot him a glare.

"Think of it as a new party trick," Varric offered. The rest of the room turned in surprise at his voice. He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. "Sorry to interrupt. You guys left the door open and I didn't want to miss out on the party."

"And where the hell have you been? We had to fight friggin' magic dragons and shit!" Sera snapped, though instead of gesturing she put her hands in her armpits as if that might prevent them from spontaneously combusting.

"Yeah, well, you should see Kirkwall right about now. Everything is a mess. You're not the only one who discovered they had magic and let's just say things are getting pretty crazy over there. Although… maybe not as crazy as it was for you guys. Part of me thinks this is all some mass hallucination because I just talked to Hawke for half an hour and I'm pretty sure he was trapped in the Fade."

"He came back. I helped heal the hurt," Cole said, as if this explained everything.

"Right. Maybe I'll need to ask Hawke about how that happened later. I'm sure it will be an exciting tale."

"Speaking of exciting tales-" Dorian began before he was cut off once more.

"And how is Fenris? Does he still want to kill me?" Lavellan asked, half-joking, half-serious.

"Um, hard to say. It didn't exactly come up, but he did look like he wanted to leave. But that's always true of Fenris where there's a room full of people who aren't Hawke and only Hawke. Now that Hawke's back again I don't think so…? They mostly seem to want to get home and uh… reconnect, if I had to guess."

"What is it? What did I miss? Why would he want to kill Lavellan? He saved her life." Dorian glanced between the two of them, confused.

"Well… Not at first," Lavellan said with a grimace. "He was with Vivienne and Mythal."

"Was he? Well, that is awkward. Speaking of Vivienne, would anyone like to hear about my harrowing battle with the powerful enchantress and-"

Everyone let out a collective groan, save for Lavellan, who laughed.

"Uh! Well, fine. I won't share the most brilliant moment of the night with any of you sorry sops," he said defiantly, crossing his arms and turning away from them.

"No, please, I want to hear," Lavellan said, nudging Dorian with her knee as she adjusted her arm and her sleeping child. "I hardly got to fight at all. I was too busy with labor pains and fixing up you lot. Please Dorian. I want to know what happened, in detail."

Dorian raised an eyebrow as he peered over his shoulder at her. "I know you're just pandering to get back into my good graces. But I'll take it." He whirled back around, hopping to his feet as he gestured dramatically. "From the moment I ran through that eluvian and locked eyes with the great and terrible Madame de Fer we both knew what it meant: a duel to the death. A battle for the ages that would determine who was the mightiest and most powerful mage of all. Looking back at the time we first met, it was almost like fate was putting us on a path that could lead to no other conclusion. Both of us brilliant, beautiful, and bursting with the potential to be the best mage in all of Thedas. With the Fade merging with the real world, I could feel the strength of my power increased tenfold from the very first fireball…"

The group listened, half-exhausted and half-exasperated until finally Dorian concluded his story and took a bow for his heroism. They clapped half-heartedly and wound down the night with drinks, food, and their own play-by-play accounts of the battle. Lavellan watched, vaguely aware of the talking and Solas's arm around her shoulder as she slipped between consciousness and unconsciousness.

She could not return to what had been their quarters back at Mercy's Rest. The rug was stained by her father's life blood and no matter what happened from then on out, she would never be able to forget that. The blood was still being cleaned from the walls as she walked to the rookery with her letters in hand informing the Dalish Council of what had happened. Though she doubted it would mean war, she feared what the impact of the fall of the Veil would be for her people. Many feared magic and a power that was suddenly obtained and uncontrolled could prove dangerous. But the Dalish would be better off than many others and for her, after so much loss, there was some comfort in that.

She sent her messenger birds and watched them fly away, hoping her uncle and friends were well, wherever they were. Adjusting the spot at which her sling-wrap cradled the baby, she headed down to deal with the rest of the business she had been putting off.

Solas, Abelas, and a few other important advisors and newcomers were just finishing a meeting to discuss helping the new Elvhen who had come through to the other side of the Veil. It was a slower process than Lavellan had imagined. Each day a few more came through and the world gradually shifted like the tides. As such, plans had to be made and people needed help getting their bearings in the new world. With Skyhold and Mercy's Rest at their disposal, it had seemed quite a simple process on paper, but in reality it required a great deal of coordination and effort.

Solas's weary face split into a warm smile as she approached. Touching the face of the woman he loved and peeking down at their new bundle of joy filled his heart with pure happiness. The rest of the advisors left, save for Abelas, who stayed behind, waiting at the doorway. "Shall I fetch him?" he asked with a frown.

Solas nodded and Abelas left the room. He turned back to his partner, taking her hand in his. "Are you well, ma vhenan?" he asked, knowing how hard it had been for her the last couple of days.

She sighed and shook her head. "Not really. I'm tired. In my bones tired. I just keep replaying all that's happened this week in my head and it feels so… unreal. I sent off Morrigan's ashes to the Hero of Ferelden. Apparently Kieran's father is on his way to find the boy. He says he'll take care of him, but… there's something going on at Weisshaupt that they're not telling us. I offered to take Kieran in at Skyhold… but the boy is nearly fifteen. I'm worried either way he'll just run off on his own. And he shouldn't be alone." She pressed her fist to her forehead in a dejected manner. "Wherever he is, I wonder how long he's been alone. And I worry," she admitted, letting her hand fall down in defeat.

"Our scouts have already picked up on several leads. It will not be long before he is found. And his father will help him… however he can." Solas put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"I know. But it makes me sad, nonetheless. Vivienne's family was difficult to track down, but when we offered to send her ashes they refused. Said they didn't want them or anything associated with her. She never spoke about her family, but… I never realized they had disowned her because she was a mage. No wonder she hated being called by her given name. It must have been a painful reminder of the people who had given her so willingly to the Circle without a second thought. I almost pity her." She grew quiet then, turning over her own thoughts in her mind. She didn't need to say anything for Solas to know what it was she was thinking about.

"Is there anything I can do, vhenan?"

She shook her head solemnly. "I have my father's ashes in a jar and I have no idea what to do with them." After all that had happened, she was never able to reconcile with her father. And she knew that Solas was in some way relieved he was dead and no longer a threat to her wellbeing. But that did not make the decision about where to lay him to rest any easier. She had considered many options, but her mixed feelings complicated the matter. A part of her hoped that the answer would simply come to her. And so she waited, but no answer had come to her as of yet.

Solas kissed the top of her head and rubbed her shoulder consolingly. "You don't have to decide right now. You have time."

But the furrow in her brow did not go away.

"You look tired, vhenan. Shall I take the baby for a little while so you may rest?" he offered, touching his child's head with gentle fondness.

She looked up at him, dark shadows under her eyes. "I keep having nightmares about the Dread Wolf. I've been almost grateful when the baby keeps me up."

Solas did not have an answer ready for this. It was something he blamed himself for, and the guilt ate away at him. Was he the cause of all of her nightmares? Would she ever feel safe around him again now that he was rejoined with the Dread Wolf? "The Wolf is not a danger to you, ma vhenan. The more he is with me, the more he sees through my eyes, and the more he understands of this world. Rejoined, we are both closer to what we once were. I am in control. The Dread Wolf as you saw, that savage, feral beast, is no more. He has changed. Because of what you did."

She looked at him with exhaustion under her eyes. "And what of Mythal? Will we see her again? I fear she will return, with a new face and the same terrifying lust for vengeance and power."

"I do not know," Solas admitted. "It has not been easy trying to learn all that she planned. The Wolf consumed the spiritual essence of Mythal, Urthemiel, and the power of the Vir'abelesan. All that power now belongs to the Wolf. It is possible Mythal split herself further, but if she exists, she is certainly far weaker than she was when we faced her."

"The Dread Wolf is more powerful than ever before…" she said quietly, a shadow passing over her face as the memories of her nightmares and that horrific moment replayed in her mind.

Solas touched her cheek and lifted her chin so she looked him in the eye. "You are safe, vhenan. His power is under my control. Not the other way around. That power is frightening, but I will not abuse it or unleash it unless we are facing an enemy that requires the use of such power. You must trust me."

She looked up at him and touched his hand, warm against her cheek. "I do. In my heart, I trust you. But my fear is not so easy to reason with. And my dreams have been cruel."

He kissed the top of her head again and rubbed her shoulders. "I will make you a tonic to help you sleep, ma vhenan. And I will happily take care of her while you sleep."

"You are kind, vhenan. But perhaps it will have to be done in a series of naps. She still needs to eat every few hours."

"True. And how have you been eating? I noticed that you have been quiet around Abelas lately. Is it because of what happened… with your father?" He looked at her curiously, a note of concern tugging at his brow.

"Oh, that. Well, it's silly really. When I was healing him during the fight, he sort of… kissed me. On accident. He was barely conscious, I think he was dazed from blood loss. It wasn't… intentional, I believe. Maybe he thought I was someone else? I'm not sure." She knew her cheeks were pink, though she wasn't sure why she felt so embarrassed by it. Solas's amused expression only worsened the matter, however. "It's just been a little odd being around one another. We're both thoroughly embarrassed."

A knock came from the door and they both turned as Abelas opened it and two guards escorted a shackled Cullen into the room.

Lavellan glared at Solas and hissed in a low voice, "Were the shackles really necessary?"

"Yes," was Solas's simple reply.

She bit her tongue, but said nothing more as Abelas approached. He gave a small bow of the head, averting Lavellan's eyes and focusing instead on Solas. "The prisoner is ready to face your judgement," he said, shooting Cullen a look of distaste.

Solas observed the former commander of the Inquisition with a shrewd gaze. If he alone were to make the decision, it would not take long to reach a verdict. But he knew he was not the one whom Cullen had hurt most and he wanted his partner to have her say over his fate.

Lavellan stared at Cullen long and hard for several moments. Then she turned to Solas. "I want a moment alone to ask him a few questions," she said.

Solas frowned, but nodded. "I'll allow it. But the guards stay."

"As will I," Abelas said, his arms folded across his chest. He still bore a grudge against Cullen and after the events with the Sentinels on Lavellan's personal guard turning on her, he had become overly protective, despite the fact he still could not look her in the eye.

"Abelas," Solas said, drawing his attention. "A word." He motioned for Abelas to follow him out into the hallway. After a moment's hesitation and a cold glare at Cullen, Abelas obeyed.

Finding the hallway quiet and deserted, Solas turned to Abelas, his eyebrow raised. "I heard that during the battle against Mythal you kissed my partner." He studied Abelas's reaction carefully.

Abelas, who had been suspecting it at some point, still felt his cheeks grow hot under his mortified sensibilities. Straightening his back he did his best to keep himself composed.

"Well? Is it true? Have you nothing to say for yourself?" Solas asked.

Abelas cleared his throat. "Yes, it is true. It happened in a moment of delirium. I had lost a great deal of blood after I was attacked. I experienced a delusion that made me act impulsively. Nothing more."

Solas's lip turned up in an amused smile. "What kind of delusion was it that made you kiss her?"

Abelas pressed his lips into a thin line. "I thought… that I had passed on into the next world. I thought what I saw in my delirious state was my love, there to welcome me into the beyond."

Solas nodded his head, pondering for a moment. "Forgive me, but I seem to recall that your partner did not resemble mine at all. In fact, I seem to recall she had very different coloring and features."

A muscle twitched in Abelas's jaw. "Again, I was in state of utter delirium. I apologize for my… indiscretions against her person."

"It is not I to whom you should apologize," Solas said, a curious expression touching his lip.

"Of course. I will apologize to her ladyship in due time."

Solas leveled his gaze. "It appears that you have come to be rather protective over her. If this were months ago, you never would have volunteered yourself so willingly as you have done of late. What has changed? Do I need to be concerned you have feelings for my partner?" he asked, keeping his inquiry free of emotion to better assess Abelas.

Abelas scowled. "Of course not. My interest in her wellbeing is purely professional. There have now been multiple attempts on her life from sources within Mercy's Rest. My trust in our own people is waning."

"The attacks are a lamentable act. Not all Sentinels wanted to remove their vallaslin. Their purpose was to serve Mythal, so I am not terribly surprised many turned to her side and obeyed her commands. I am surprised that you did not." Solas looked at him rather sharply. "Did you not feel the call of her orders, Abelas? You too refused to remove the vallaslin. I would have thought as the person closest to me, you would have been a prime target for Mythal to use in her attempt to subdue me."

They leveled their gaze with one another.

"Are you accusing me of working for Mythal when Mercy's Rest was attacked?"

"I am wondering why she did not move such a well-positioned piece when she had one at her disposal. You served the Temple of Mythal for centuries. You have served me only briefly. So it falls on me to ask, where your heart lies?"

Abelas tilted his head. "My heart? Or my allegiance?"

"I suspect the two are not so dissimilar," Solas said with a knowing look.

Abelas kept his face composed. "I serve the People. Your cause serves them. Therefore I chose to follow you, Fen'Harel. That is where my allegiance lies."

Solas watched him carefully. "Indeed. It is curious, though. Mythal was always an adept player at war and subterfuge. I am surprised it was you who raised the blade against her. That took courage. You were forced to turn on your previous sense of duty. That cannot have been an easy choice."

"No. It was not."

Solas rubbed his chin. "I understand my partner has saved your life more than once now."

"She saved a great many of her companions in that fight. She saved you as well, if you recall," Abelas said, wary of this return to the former line of questioning.

"Yes. I am surprised. I had thought joining with the Dread Wolf again would be the end of my life. But it was not. Because of her and her decisions."

Abelas waited, certain more was to come.

"I played chess with her when she first came to visit as the Dalish Ambassador. She was always calculating her decisions so carefully, afraid to sacrifice a piece. It was always the same when we fought together during my time with the Inquisition. She cared so much for the wellbeing of others that she risked her own life with almost reckless abandon. When Corypheus attacked Haven, she sacrificed herself willingly to buy time for the rest of the Inquisition to survive. She did it time and time again, putting herself on the line for the sake of others. There is nothing she would not do to protect her people. It is easy to admire a person like that."

Abelas remained quiet, though he did nod his head in agreement.

"When I saw Mythal after waking to this world, I had believed her to be right; that this world was not worth saving and the past should be restored in its stead. Now I am left to wonder if I played into her plans for power and vengeance; blinded by my own grief and loss." He looked to Abelas, curious once more. "I never even realized I was a chess piece in her game. But her hate has grown over time and the Mythal who stole away the woman I loved to lure me into a trap was not the same Mythal I knew back in the days of Arlathan. Time and anger had corrupted the kinder aspects of her nature. And I was a fool who walked into her trap."

"Yet you emerged victorious," Abelas reminded him.

"Only because of her. Make no mistake, Abelas: without my partner, I doubt either of us would be here now." He hung his head and took a long, slow breath, filling his lungs. "For ages, I have put my faith in my own wisdom, believing that I knew best about how this world should be. But I misjudged friend from foe. In my arrogance, I did not see what she did: that this world need not be sacrificed for ours to be a part of it."

"Her mercy is admirable. But it also put her in danger. It put us all in danger," Abelas reminded him in a cold voice.

"Her mercy is why we are alive. It is also why Mythal failed. I wonder, if anyone else were in her place, would they have stayed their hand? Would you have struck me down as you did Mythal?"

Abelas looked him in the eye then, steady and stoic. "I would have."

"Yes. I believe you would have. Luckily for me, you were not the one wielding the blade when the time came."

Abelas was quiet for a moment. "After all that has happened though… I do wonder. She is either the luckiest person I have ever met… or the unluckiest. I'm still not certain which I believe."

Solas contemplated this perspective. Finally, he said, "Nor am I."

"Do you think Mythal is truly gone? Could she be alive somewhere still?" Abelas asked, a nervous edge in his voice.

A moment of silence passed, tense and heavy upon their shoulders. "I do not know for certain," Solas admitted. "I pray that it is. But I am not foolish enough to rule it out entirely. Mythal survived through the ages, time and time again. It is possible she still exists, in a weakened form somewhere else. But it will be some time before she can regain her power and find a suitable host. Let us hope that day never comes."

Abelas's finger went to his face, touching the vallaslin. "Perhaps it is time then. To let go of the past."

A forlorn smile briefly pulled at Solas's lip. "I believe you are right, my friend. It is time to embrace the future you have helped create."

Back in the office, Lavellan looked Cullen up and down. A few days in a cell had made him look rather gaunt. Seeing him in shackles before her felt wrong when he used to stand by her side when she judged others. But this was not Skyhold and he was no longer her commander. He was not even someone she considered a friend.

Cullen kept his eyes on the floor, too ashamed to bring himself to look at her.

"Well?" she asked, soothing her infant as she began to squirm. "Do you have nothing to say for yourself?"

Cullen closed his eyes and shook his head solemnly.

"Why did you come here, Cullen?"

His chin dipped lower to his chest, but he did not reply.

"Answer me," she ordered.

Finally he looked up at her. His eyes were red, his cheeks tear-stained, and he looked at her with regret. "I came for you."

"Why?"

He mulled over his words as he bit his lower lip, but as much as he did not want to say, he didn't want to lie to her anymore. "Because Morrigan told me what he was planning and how dangerous it was. She said you would get caught in the middle of it, that you were in danger and if I wanted to keep you safe, I had to help her. I didn't know it was Mythal. I didn't know she was the one who planned on using you, I swear. My duty was to help them figure out a way into Mercy's Rest to find what they were looking for. I believed them when they told me they were aiming to stop Fen'Harel from destroying the world. I… I was wrong. I realized that when we talked and I changed my mind. I tried to…" he trailed off, shaking his head. The chains on his shackles rattled as he ran a hand over the back of his neck. He winced as the shackles chaffed his skin raw.

Lavellan crossed the room and for a brief moment Cullen shut his eyes, bracing himself for a strike that never came. Instead the pain in his wrists eased and the raw skin healed under her spell. She stepped back again, still glaring at him. "You trusted Morrigan over me? I thought you were my friend, Cullen. I thought you came here to help support me."

"I did! I was concerned. But you didn't tell me you were pregnant. Or what he was planning. When I got here and you told me about the attack Morrigan made, I changed my mind. I didn't give them any information. I cut off ties. And I know I should have told you about the impending attack, but I… I thought they should stop him."

"He is my partner. Solas and I are bonded. We have a child. You need to accept that."

Cullen's mouth pinched together in anger. "I know that! But I saw the Dread Wolf. He could have killed you! He likely would have! I thought I was saving your life and the life of your child!" He looked at her beseechingly. "I know I made a mistake, but I tried to help fix it. I came to warn your commander of the impending attacks, but he had me tied up and gagged instead. And when I told them the truth I offered to help and fought to protect you."

"Is that so? If you did all this on my behalf, tell me truthfully then: where did my father get lyrium? Who gave it to him? Who showed him how to use it? I fought him, Cullen, I recognize templar techniques when I see them. The Dalish don't use lyrium the way templars do. Tell me the truth."

And the answer was there in his silence as he closed his lips tightly together, casting his gaze down at the floor in shame.

"You did it. You're the one." Though she said the words, a part of her still couldn't believe it. Still couldn't accept that it had been Cullen. "After all you did to help templars find a way out of their own addictions to lyrium, you gave it to my father? Were you taking it as well? So that when the time came you could subdue me?" She didn't want to believe it. She didn't want to believe he was capable of doing such a thing.

Cullen looked back up at her, his brow furrowed in regret and guilt. "I'm sorry. Morrigan put him on my path. He came to me, asked me for help, telling me about how unstoppable the Dread Wolf's power was and how he'd corrupted you…"

"And you believed him. Because it fed in quite nicely with the idea that Solas is a danger to me. Did he neglect to tell you that Solas only did that to stop him from killing me over this so-called 'corruption'? Or that he tried to kidnap me before my own bonding ceremony?" She shook her head at him in disgust. "And you gave him lyrium. Are you on it now?"

He shook his head. "I haven't taken it. I've been clean for years but…" he sighed, balling his hands into fists. "We keep a small supply on hand at the treatment facility. Small doses for those experiencing extreme, life-threatening withdrawal symptoms. I gave it to him and showed him how to negate magic. I had no idea-"

"-That he would use it against me? Well he did. And now he's dead. And I will never get the chance to try and make amends and I will have to live with the fact that my father tried to kill and kidnap me for the rest of my life. He is dead and gone and he never knew that what he was doing was wrong. Because he didn't trust me. Like you didn't trust me."

"I was tricked and manipulated by people who lied to me. But given the evidence I had at the time, I was inclined to believe them. I was wrong. I apologized. I have tried to make amends-"

"-You wanted me to run away with you. And when I didn't, rather than tell me the truth, you let them invade my home and kill innocent lives! They took me captive while I was in labor and chained me up. They would have killed me! They would have killed us," she said, cupping her baby's head. She shook her head, fighting back angry tears. "Tell me how am I supposed to forgive you? Please, because I am trying to find a way but you have broken my heart and betrayed my trust."

His resolve crumbled and he fell heavily to his knees, rattling the chains. He raised his chin to look into her eyes, searching for something he could not name. "Please. By the Maker, I swear I never meant to put you in danger. Or anyone. I had no idea what they were really planning. I should have trusted you. I'm sorry."

And though she knew he meant it, a part of her could not forgive him entirely. "Yes. You should have trusted me. But you didn't. And the truth is, I don't think you trust my judgement any more than my father did. I pretended like there wasn't a problem with the way you feel about Solas, and about me, but it is a problem. One that imperiled the lives of the people I love, as well as my own. I'm sorry, Cullen. But it is my duty as Ambassador and Inquisitor to protect my people." She took a breath, steeling her heart. "You are to be returned to your estate in Ferelden. Your passage has already been arranged. Once you leave here, you are not to return until a time when I see fit; the same is true for Skyhold. I don't know when that will be. Or if it will happen. But so long as I cannot call you friend, you must keep your distance. It's for the best." With that, she waved her hand and the chains and shackles fell away from his wrists. She then turned to the guards and they led him from the room. He paused at the door, looking over his shoulder one last time, a deep forlorn sorrow in his eyes that crushed her heart as she watched him go.

Nobles tittered along the edge of the room. A few noblewomen fanned themselves and batted their eyelashes as the Sentinels approached. Some of the Dalish delegates looked on with interest, whispering to one another excitedly. Many admired the tall elf who led them down the center of the room. Clad in shining armor and adorned with a fair amount of livery as well, the commander of Fen'Harel's forces gleamed like the sun, drawing the attention of the onlookers.

Lavellan, however, had her eyes firmly fixed on a woman in the back of the room who was gently soothing the tiny babe in her arms. It was the furthest mother and baby had been from one another since the birth and neither was handling it very well. The music began and Lavellan tore her gaze away, smiling from her position up on the dais.

Solas watched her from the corner of his eye, sensing her anxiety. He cleared his throat and she gave him a look that said she was present and giving the ceremony all due attention. Although it took about five seconds before she glanced back at the nursemaid again.

Abelas reached the dais and bowed his head respectfully to them both. They bowed their heads in turn and Abelas knelt before them. The other Sentinels behind him followed suit.

"It is with great joy that we gather here today," he said, addressing the room. "Our people have fought bravely and now in the dawn of a new age, we must contend with the past that was and create a future that serves us all. Much has changed in recent days and more will come, but in this place, we are all free to choose the paths we take. That is why I am proud to see the faces before us. Today those gathered here before us renounce their vallaslin and choose a new path. In this place, you are free. Ar lasa mala revas. Rise and claim your freedom," he said.

The commander rose and Solas raised a hand to his face. His hand glowed with the same pale blue light Lavellan remembered from when he had taken away her vallaslin. Though the reminder was not a pleasant one, she forced herself to smile graciously as his vallaslin was removed.

Solas smiled at his friend as the mark disappeared, leaving Abelas's face free of any trace of the markings. "You came here as Sorrow. And now you have come to a new name. It is my honor to introduce the commander of my forces, Suledin. Congratulations, lethallin," he added in a low voice as the applause started.

Suledin nodded his head and bowed, taking his place upon the dais beside Solas as the rest of the Sentinels behind him stepped forward to have their vallaslins removed.

The ceremony passed and the moment it was over Lavellan pressed her way to the back, taking her baby from the nursemaid and holding her daughter tight to her chest, breathing in the sweet scent of her to calm her nerves.

"Clearly your first," the nursemaid said with a kind smile.

"Is it that obvious?" she replied, kissing her daughter's head.

"Most certainly," came a voice from behind her. She turned to see Suledin standing there.

"'Suledin'," she said with a raised brow. "Congratulations. I was hoping you would find a new name."

"Yes, I seem to recall it was one of the things you said to me right before you ran off to do something stupid and dangerous."

She pressed her lips together. "That doesn't sound like me at all. No, I'm pretty sure it was brave and cunning. Heroic, even. You, on the other hand, ran into the fray to fight Mythal. Which was incredibly stupid and dangerous."

Despite his signature frown, Abelas's smile tugged briefly at his lip. "Yes. Perhaps we were both fools. And for any foolish actions on my behalf, I apologize," he said, and she took his meaning.

"Yes. And I apologize as well. For my willful disobedience that is a constant thorn in your side," she said with a polite, unapologetic smile.

He gave a customary frown. "Right. I'll believe that when I see it. Although I do find it more bearable when you keep such good company," he said, offering his finger to the squirming baby. "May I?" he offered.

Fighting back her grudging response, she nodded and allowed him to take her baby from her arms.

"Careful. All the women in the room may swoon," she said dryly, noting that a few were keeping a keen eye on the tall commander now holding the small infant.

But he did not care. He raised the baby up and Lavellan could tell he too was indulging in the sweet baby scent from the top of her head.

"Has it been a while since you last held a baby? I don't imagine there are many in ancient temples."

He shot her a sharp, unamused look. "It has been… a long time. But it is not something one forgets," he said, looking down on the baby in his arms with a gentle fondness. She gripped his finger in her tiny hand and became momentarily unaware of the rest of the room until a voice from behind caught his attention.

Solas stood behind him and cleared his throat to announce his presence. He raised a surprised eyebrow at the scene. "She is magical, is she not? I too find myself spellbound by her presence," he said with a grin, taking her into his arms. Suledin straightened his back to a more professional position, wiping away the brief smile he bore when he'd held the small baby in his arms. Bowing his head, he excused himself and turned to offer his congratulations to another Sentinel.

Solas smiled at his baby girl and her mother. "Come with me," he said, whispering into her ear.

Intrigued, she smiled and followed him from the room. They paused here and there for a quick word or to offer congratulations to others, but then they slipped from the ballroom and went up the stairs and down several halls until they reached the nursery.

"I thought it was time," he said, opening the door to reveal a few open jars of paint. This in itself was not peculiar, but then he pointed to a spot on the wall. "We could write her name here and then have her hand print here. What do you think?"

"Well," she said, unable to suppress her grin. "I think that would be wonderful. And we should put ours beside hers too." She selected a metallic gold paint that shone with a luminous vibrancy.

"Do you need a hand?" Solas offered and she fixed him with a half-amused look. "I only offer because I know the new arm takes getting used to."

She picked up a brush and dipped it into the paint, painting her hand with it in long, slow strokes. "I can manage. Dagna really outdid herself with this one. Although she did nearly cry when I showed her the splintered remains of the previous arm." She turned to the wall. "Here?"

"Perfect," Solas said.

She pressed her hand to the wall and took a step back, admiring it. Wiping her hand clean with a cloth and the wash basin, she took the baby so Solas could use the brush. Taking advantage of the moment while she had her arms full, he pressed a dot of paint to her nose, making her chuckle.

"Really? You know I'll have to get you back for that," she teased.

"Is that so? I look forward to it," he said, pressing his hand to the wall. When he pulled it away, he painted the symbol for love on her cheek with the tip of his finger.

Once his hands were clean he opened his daughter's hand and gently brushed it with the gold paint. "We should have used green. Then your hand could have looked like your mamae's," he said, recalling the excited children from Arlathvhen who had waved their painted green hands at her.

"It's a lovely brown now," she said, wiggling her wooden fingers.

Their baby stretched then and gave an adorable yawn. "Aw, someone is sleepy," Lavellan said, stepping closer to the wall. "We should put her down for a nap after this."

"Just here then," Solas said, guiding their little one's hand to the wall. Together they pressed her hand to the wall where it fit perfectly between theirs.

They stepped back, admiring the new additions to the mural. "It's perfect," Lavellan said with a smile.

"Ah, only one more finishing touch," Solas said, writing in their names with the brush. Above the smallest handprint he wrote: Vhenara. A name they had chosen together to honor the love they shared.

"You have such wonderful handwriting," she praised as he stepped back. Vhenara gave another yawn and Lavellan looked down to find paint splotched all over her chest. "Oh no, she got me," she said with a sigh, taking up the towel and wiping off her baby's hand before her dress could be ruined further.

"Da'len, have you ruined another of your mamae's dresses?" Solas said, taking her from her mother's arms and settling her down in her crib.

"Oh, it's my fault. I was too busy admiring the mural," she said, wiping at the paint with the damp cloth.

"I'm glad you like it," he said, snaking a hand around her waist and brushing her hair aside to kiss her neck as he stood behind her. "Her hand is so small it looks like a flower."

This made Lavellan smile. "It does. Like a tiny blooming embrium."

Taking the rag from her, he tossed it aside and slowly untied the string lacing the front of her dress. "Maybe one day we'll have a few more flowers in that field. There's plenty of room."

"Oh no you don't!" she said with a laugh, grabbing his hand to stop him from unlacing her dress. "One is plenty for right now. Don't you go getting any ideas," she said sternly, a note of warning in her voice as he looked at her with desire smoldering in his gaze.

"Well, I suppose we could always practice," he said in a low voice, pushing her back towards the connecting bedroom where they slept. His hands kept unlacing the bodice of her dress.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Are you certain you're up to some practice? I seem to recall the last time we tried you fell asleep before we could really get into it."

"And this time I fully intend to make up for that," he said, slipping her dress from her shoulders and gently pressing her down to the bed.

Crawling backwards to make room for him, she pulled him down to the bed beside her. The moment their heads touched the pillows, exhaustion struck them both. "Mmm… Maybe we could just cuddle for a little while?" Lavellan suggested, snuggling closer to him.

"If you insist," Solas said, his eyes already closed as he pulled her against his body and summoned the bed sheets up to cover them. Wrapping his arm around her, he slipped into a peaceful rest. The light outside faded and the two slept peacefully, entwined with one another as their baby girl dreamed in the next room.