The Vagrant
By Pyreite
Sequel to: The Trickster Returns
Chapter 8 – Debts and Bargains
Warning: This chapter contains coarse language and mature references. Discretion is advised.
The sun was high. The sky cloudless. The wind cool as it blew through the trees. Ellana watched the boughs dip and sway like the sails of a ship. It had been many years since she'd seen the frothing blue waves of the Waking Sea.
Ellana remembered running along the sand and shingle beaches of the Storm Coast. She smiled as she recalled how Dorian had hated the constant rolling white-washed waters. The cloying stink of brine had made his stomach churn. The flock of gulls roosting on the poles of his tent every morning had infuriated him. Ellana had often awoken to the sound of Dorian ranting in Tevene.
The thud of stones and frightened squawking had caused Ellana to fear for the local wildlife.
"He was hilarious", giggled Ellana. "Standing there every morning, half-naked, raving like a madman". She grinned at her companion. "He was fabulous with spell-craft, truly, the man was a master. But in all honesty, if he wasn't firing spells or flirting, he really did have terrible aim".
Ellana's golden eyes glinted with mirth. "He never actually hit a gull with those stones. Not once, although I think he missed on purpose. Dorian was a sweetheart underneath all the bluster, good looks, and gold embroidery. He didn't have a cruel bone in his body. I think it saved the Storm Coast's gulls, wild nugs, and giant rats from extinction".
"Your friend sounds boorish and clumsy".
Ellana laughed.
"He was a far-cry from a mild-mannered Dalish man. Dorian was like a peacock, loud and flamboyant, with a flair for the dramatic. Shemlen or not. The man was an utter delight for dinner conversation. He once made the Empress of Orlais blush with a single look".
"You miss him".
Ellana's smile was melancholic.
"I do. He was to me what Solas was to Mythal. A dear and trusted friend. I always went to him when I was troubled. Dorian listened, no matter how foolish or serious I was. He'd share a word of wisdom or tell a dirty joke just to make me smile".
Solas woke to the sound of their hushed conversation. He kept his eyes closed, feigning sleep, whilst Ellana shared a little of her past with a sentinel elf. He knew to whom she spoke. The voice was softer, the tone undeniably feminine, in comparison to Ilcen's masculine rasp. Ellana talked with Valoya, the spouse of the sentinel that reviled him.
"Ah", said Valoya. "The Harellan is awake".
Solas sighed. He had tried to remain inconspicuous. He was a better liar when he was conscious. Solas opened an eye. He peered over the bear pelt tucked beneath his chin.
"I am still alive".
Valoya rolled her eyes. "Fenedhis!" She was on her feet and marching out of the tent before Solas could climb from his bed. Ellana gave him a disapproving look. She was unimpressed by his childish behaviour.
"That was uncalled for".
"Her husband loathes my existence", retorted Solas.
Ellana snorted.
"I hate you, I've attacked you, and I've tried to kill you several times. Ilcen and Valoya haven't done a thing to you, Solas. I'm the guilty party here. Not my sentinels. If you want to be an arse, focus your irritation on me".
"And if I do not?"
Ellana's eyes glowed a fiery blue-grey.
The cup of water, atop a low-table beside his bed, turned grey like stone. Solas heard the crackling as the wood was petrified. The spell was cast with a thought, a sure sign that Ellana was tapping into Mythal's magic. The ease of transition worried him. He had not thought her capable of controlling the least of Mythal's power.
"Impressive", remarked Solas. "I am surprised you did not turn the spell upon me".
The blue-grey fire faded from Ellana's eyes. "Don't tempt me", she warned him. "I would love to turn you into a garden statue for the birds to shit on". Ellana smirked when she heard the muffled laughter from outside. Valoya, still standing guard, tittered at the Dread Wolf's expense.
"Why wait?" taunted Solas. "I am not in any condition to fight you".
Ellana rose from her simple three-legged wooden stool. She strode across the tent's grassy floor.
She stopped at the foot of his bedroll. She regarded him sombrely, head shaking. She glanced at the low-table, the stone cup, and the ewer beside it.
Ellana closed the distance in a few steps. She reached for the ewer's bent brass handle. She grasped the stone cup with her scaled left hand. Her black claws clicked as she curled her fingers around it. Ellana lifted the ewer and cup, pouring water from one into the other in a gurgling gush.
"Always so fatalistic", reproved Ellana. "I'll repeat what I told you in the Setheneran, Solas". She offered him the cup, filled to the brim. "You are not worth killing". Ellana sighed as she returned the ewer to the table.
"Drink", she instructed, proffering the cup again.
Solas's eyes narrowed. He did not trust her. "You first".
The corner of Ellana's mouth curled upward. She was amused by his suspicion. She sank to her knees beside him, long legs folding. She made herself comfortable on the edge of his fur blanket. Ellana toasted him with a flick of her wrist and a casual nod.
She lifted the cup to her mouth. She took one small sip. A drop of water beaded on her lower-lip. It was shiny and transparent like a glistening ball of glass. Ellana made certain Solas saw the pink tip of her tongue slide out from between her lips.
She licked the droplet clean.
Solas's wanton groan made her grin. Ellana pressed a hand to his chest when he tried to lean inward. His mouth was open. His gaze fixated upon the pink bow of her lower-lip. Ellana stopped him with a gentle admonition.
"If you kiss me again. I will extract the last of Mythal's magic. You will be weaker than you are now. Your recovery would take months not days. If you want to take the risk, Solas, I am willing to leave you crippled".
Solas's breath was warm on her skin. He hesitated a moment longer. Ellana saw how he struggled to reign in his base desires. She had lit a fire in his belly with a simple gesture. He grimaced as he tried to resist temptation.
"You are wicked".
Ellana eyed him. "I'm not the one who can't keep his cock in his pants".
"Ellana!" reprimanded Solas.
Ellana pressed the cup to his lips. "Hush", she soothed. "And drink. I promise it isn't poison". She waited whilst Solas made up his mind.
A moment later, after a calculating look, he opened his mouth. Ellana held the cup until he drained it dry. The faint scent of crushed elfroot lingered on his breath. Ellana returned the empty cup to the table. She turned back, pausing, when Solas frowned.
"Why are you being so kind to me?"
"Would you prefer that I were cruel?" countered Ellana.
"Ellana!" hissed Solas, the frustration leaking through his self-control. "I am not in the mood for games!"
"Now that is odd indeed", teased Ellana. "I thought the legendary Fen'Harel delighted in contests of wit and will". She arched a slender brow. She peered at him from under her lashes. "You are the Lord of Tricksters, the teller of half-truths, and the crafter of elaborate lies".
Solas glowered. "You dare to insult me!"
Ellana lifted her chin. She looked down her nose at him. She mimicked the haughtiness Solas had when he dealt with unpleasant things. Ellana wasn't cowed by his anger. She was fearless as she met his eye.
"It is hardly an insult if it is true", said Ellana. "You are a liar, Solas". She remained by his bedside when he leaned closer. She was tolerant as he pressed his brow to her temple. His lips brushed feather-light against the lobe of her ear.
"I know", he admitted. "But I have told you two truths".
"Remind me", retorted Ellana. "I am too used to hearing lies spill from your lips".
"Ma emma lath", whispered Solas. "Ir abelas ma vhenan".
Ellana turned her face into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Her arms rose of their own accord. She embraced him despite their shared past of tragedy and conflict. Mythal's heart was her own. The affection she had for him was not entirely one-sided.
"Ir abelas, Solas", murmured Ellana.
She kissed his cheek before withdrawing. The innocent peck of her lips on his skin alarmed him. Ellana stilled when Solas stared. She returned his scrutiny. She was unperturbed by the startled expression upon his face.
His wide eyes, arched brows, and open mouth revealed his distress.
"You are leaving".
Ellana nodded.
"Nae!"
"I am not one of your spies skulking in the shadows", Ellana reminded him. "Nor am I a conceited elven noble trying to curry your favour". She clucked her tongue disapprovingly. "I go when and where I please. I do not need Fen'Harel's approval".
"You trust the sentinel elves".
"More than I trust you".
"Ellana!" pleaded Solas. "Ar vallem ma tel'ghilas!"
Ellana studied him with cool solemnity. Her request was simple. She knew he would disagree. The Dread Wolf did not show mercy to his enemies. Although he was a traitor, he did not condone treachery from his own followers.
"Stop your hunt for Hawen and Minaeve".
Solas scowled.
"They were sworn to me. They broke their oaths. I have every right to seek restitution".
Ellana snorted.
"You have no right at all", she told him. "Hawen was Flemeth's agent long before you removed his vallaslin. He was also Dalish. Minaeve too, before she was turned out by her clan. They acted at Flemeth's behest even if she spoke with Morrigan's voice".
Solas's lip curled.
"You would harbour oath-breakers?"
"No", corrected Ellana. "I would safeguard oath-keepers. They are mine, Solas, just like the sentinel elves". She interceded before he could berate her. The anger was plain upon his fair elven face.
"They are not servants or slaves!" scolded Ellana. "They are Elvhen! My people! Your desire for vengeance is misguided! They were acting in accordance with the will of Mythal!"
"You are not a god!" snarled Solas.
"Nae", agreed Ellana. "I am not".
Her ire cooling. She faced him as Mythal had once faced the vanguard of the Evanuris. Fearless and proud. Ellana stood her ground when Solas glared. His fury was understandable when she considered his rebellion against the elven pantheon.
"I am a mere woman", explained Ellana. "Housing an old, bent, and broken soul. Mythal is burdened with bitterness and regret. She loves you, Solas, but she cannot separate her rage from her purpose. She is the All-Mother. She should be caring for her people, not desiring to burn them to ash".
Solas grimaced at the revelation. He had known for centuries that Mythal chafed under the yoke of her responsibilities. The possession of Flemeth had given her focus. She had intervened many times in conflicts between elves and humans. She had spared innocents and curbed eruptions of violence.
Mythal had understood that war was not an answer, only a problem best avoided.
Flemeth's death and the transference of her power, had destabilised an already traumatised soul.
"I slept for too long", said Solas. "When I awoke from Uthenera, Mythal awaited me, but she was not as I remembered her to be".
"I know", stated Ellana. "I have seen her memories. She was glad to be reunited with her dearest friend, but she was angry too. You left her alone, Solas. It is why she possessed Flemeth, so that she might have company again. A like mind with which to share her pain".
"The possession of Morrigan", Solas mentioned cautiously. "What do you think about that, ma vhenan?"
Ellana took a deep fortifying breath. She relayed what she knew as best she could. She was still growing accustomed to having two sets of memories. Her own were pristine. Mythal's were fractured, with pieces missing, and others jumbled together like an ill-fitting puzzle.
"Flemeth didn't possess Morrigan because she needed a vessel. She did so to prevent her from killing me. It was she who sent Abelas to Skyhold. She who instructed him to pull me from the burning ruins. Flemeth saved me, so I could preserve what little sanity Mythal had left".
Ellana cupped Solas's scarred cheek with her scaled hand. She tucked a strand of black hair behind his ear with her clawed fingers. She sighed. The slow shaking of her head showed how she felt. Ellana sympathised with the Dread Wolf.
"I still have my heart, despite losing everything I loved. I know what it is to fear, grieve, and harbour resentment. I am not without compassion. I am proud, Solas, but I am not too prideful to ask for guidance. I have not closed my ears to the wisdom of my peers as Mythal did. Through me, she will be whole again".
Solas rubbed his cheek upon her scaled palm. "Ir abelas. I did not think".
"You rarely do before you open your mouth", teased Ellana. She smiled at him. Mythal's fondness shone through her golden eyes. "This argument would have been avoided if you had listened instead of making assumptions".
"Ellana", implored Solas. "I have apologised".
"Rascal", reproved Ellana. "You always were sly". She clipped the tip of his pointed ear when he tried to kiss her again. Solas's pained yelp made her eyes roll. Ellana was irritated by his behaviour.
"Nae!" she barked. "We are barely friends. We are most certainly not lovers. I have accepted the past you share with Mythal. The past we share is dead, Solas".
"Nae!" rebuked the Dread Wolf. He gazed into Ellana's golden eyes. "I remember the way you kissed me. All fire, passion, and need. You love me".
"I did what was necessary", said Ellana. "To ease your pain".
The brisk shake of his head earned her pity.
"It was more than necessity!" insisted Solas. "I did not imagine what I felt!"
Ellana tried to extricate herself from him. She stilled when calloused hands clamped around her scaled wrist. Solas held tight. He refused to let her go. The desperation coupled with fear urged him to exact an accounting.
He wanted to know, with certainty, if there was hope for them.
"Ellana!" begged Solas. "Please!"
"What you felt was Mythal's love", corrected Ellana. "Not mine, Solas".
"Nae!"
"It is the truth", said Ellana.
"It is not!" roared Solas. "You care for me still!"
"Let me go", urged Ellana.
Solas's eyes were slick with moisture. His throat tight. His voice was raw with emotion. The sincerity of his reply astonished Ellana. She had expected as much, but to see the Dread Wolf so distraught, made her wonder if he was not as selfish as she thought.
"I cannot", declared Solas. He spoke a line from the lullaby she had sung to him. "Irassal ma ghilas", promised Solas. "Ar ma ghilas". Solas grew more determined when the steel-tip of an arrowhead was aimed at his cheek.
"You will never escape me, Ellana".
"Then perhaps", said Ellana. "I will retreat to a place that lies beyond your reach".
Solas's eyes widened. He did not want to believe it was possible, but Mythal had never slept through the ages as he had. She had bolt-holes in a thousand places. It would take him centuries to find them all. Solas knew that Ellana would know how and where to hide from him if she ever needed too.
"I cannot teach you to wield Mythal's magic", coaxed Solas. "If you run away from me".
Ellana looked him in the eye. "Then stop your hunt for Hawen and Minaeve".
Solas saw the bribe for what it was. The way Ellana watched him with an expectant expression confirmed his belief. She would make an exchange of her time if he reconsidered his stance. They had kept their oaths to Mythal, by breaking his trust and confidence. It was a bitter pill to swallow.
"You will stay?"
"I will consider it", replied Ellana. "If you no longer pose a threat to those under my protection. Hawen and Minaeve acted in Morrigan's best interest. They ensured Flemeth's release by coming to me. I opened the cage, you created, by breaking the wards used to seal Morrigan away. I became Mythal and here we are".
Ellana frowned. She lifted her chin. She looked him in the eye. His deep ingrained fear of loss did not soften her resolve. Two lives depended on his decision.
"Can Fen'Harel put aside his pride?" asked Ellana. "The choice is yours, Solas. I will not condone the slightest threat to those I consider my own. I am not their god or their sovereign. I am the only shield standing between them and you. Try to break my guard and I will make certain you never see Mythal or myself again".
Solas exhaled a shaky breath. "You would shackle me with chains of my own making".
"You shackled yourself", Ellana reminded him. "When you continued to love me after I tried to kill you".
Solas regarded her cagily. He recognised the hard glint in her golden eyes. Mythal had always taken matters involving the lives of her devotees seriously. Solas saw her earnestness reflected in Ellana's expression and the tone of her voice. It was reassuring to see nuances of his dearest friend preserved in the face of his beloved.
"A smart man", Ellana told him. "Knows when not to trust his heart".
Solas chuckled. "An intelligent man", he countered smoothly. "Knows when to set the caged bird free lest she break her wings upon the bars of her prison". His head turned towards the sentinel elf doing her duty. He looked up the shaft of the arrow aimed at the vulnerable space between his eyes.
"Release her!" commanded Valoya. "Now!"
The embroidered hood had fallen from her head. Wisps of flaxen hair had escaped from the austere braid down her back. Her eyes were the verdant green of new leaves. Valoya glowered at the Dread Wolf. She saw an enemy not a comrade.
"Ellana", entreated Solas. "We are not finished here".
Ellana's reply was calm.
"Five hundred years ago. I would have given up everything for you. My clan, my life, my heart, and the Inquisition. You had me once, on my knees, begging to go with you. You refused me, Solas".
"I walked the din'anshiral!" growled Solas. "I sought to spare you from sharing my fate!"
"You did not have to walk that path alone", reasoned Ellana. "I am not afraid of dying".
Solas bowed his head in shame. His grip tightened at Ellana's gentle jostling. He had made many mistakes. The greatest of all had come back to haunt him. He had underestimated the woman he loved.
"I will not seek those who broke their oaths to me", proposed Solas. "If you come to New Arlathan. I will await your return in fourteen days within the halls of the Virvhenas. You will come, without an escort, and be my guest for a day and a night. We will discuss the conditions of your tutelage during your stay".
Ellana thought on his proposal. It was reasonable, although she knew Abelas would disagree. The rest of the sentinel elves would reject the idea too. They had already expressed their views on her keeping company with the Dread Wolf. They would not approve of her staying within the walls of his estate.
"Valoya", prompted Ellana. "What do you think of Fen'Harel's suggestion?"
"Harellan!" spat Valoya. "Dirthara ma athim!"
A hasty nod to the entrance of Solas's tent was indication enough.
Valoya wanted Ellana to retreat.
"Garas! If you value my opinion, Ellana, then leave this place!"
"Solas", said Ellana. "It is time for me to go".
Solas peered into her golden eyes. His voice was soft. His message simple. He had spied upon her for centuries inside the Setheneran. He had seen the spirit-child she had concealed within the well of her memories.
"I await your return", replied Solas. "You have a fortnight to decide".
Ellana turned her wrist, a silent cue for him to release her. Solas held tight for a moment longer. His fingers slid over her scaled skin. He paused, grip gentle. He lifted her scaled knuckles to his lips.
A chaste kiss sealed the deal.
"Dareth shiral ma vhenan", remarked Solas. His grey eyes gleamed like the silvered blade of a sword. He would cut her sentinels down to find her again. "Keep your word, Ellana", he warned her. "And I will keep mine. Fail, and I will resume my hunt for your charges".
Ellana's silent nod of acceptance was enough.
Solas released her scaled hand.
Ellana eyed him warily.
She had underestimated the Dread Wolf.
Valoya's arrow, nocked to the bowstring, was still trained on him.
"He deserves to die for all he has done", stated Valoya. "I should kill him".
"Nae", said Ellana. "Elvhen isala Fen'Harel".
The sentinel glared at the bedridden Solas. "We do not need a traitor in our midst. He wields too much influence over you, Ellana. He will cause trouble in the long run. It would be wisest to end his miserable life now than allow him time to regain his strength".
"You are not a murderer, Valoya", asserted Ellana. "If Solas proves troublesome, now or in the future, then I will deal with him. Personally. For now I will give him a chance to make amends. I owe Flemeth a debt for saving my life".
Ellana glanced at Solas. She saw the hope she had kindled in his stormy-grey eyes. She wondered if he loved her for herself or for the spirit residing beneath her skin. Only time would tell if his affection was genuine or false. Ellana vowed that she would not be so easily fooled a second time.
"You have repaid it", concluded Valoya. "Fen'Harel will live another day".
Valoya lowered her bow. The steel-tipped arrowhead moved from Solas's forehead to the grassy floor of his tent. A flick of her wrist and the arrow was returned to the quiver strapped across her back. Valoya addressed him whilst Ellana turned on her heel. She waited until Mythal's Heir walked through the tent's leather flap.
"She is better than you deserve".
"I know", said Solas.
Valoya scowled. "If you touch her again without permission, Harellan. Ar tu na'din".
"You can try", retorted Solas. "I warn you now. You will not succeed".
Valoya shook her head. She did not like how miserable he looked. His pride had deflated when Ellana had left his sight. He appeared helpless, but Valoya knew he was not. Fen'Harel had created the Veil and exiled Mythal's murderers to the void.
Valoya knew better than to believe his façade.
"You would make a poor husband", said Valoya. "You are too selfish, thinking only of yourself. Ellana would be a fool to wed you".
"Do you think Abelas would be better?" demanded Solas.
Valoya's response surprised him.
"Nae", she admitted. "He is too gentle and too patient. Ellana is fiery and headstrong by nature. She needs a firmer hand than Abelas can provide. You would do, Harellan, if you were not so mired in the past".
Solas's furrowing brows revealed his confusion. "What would you suggest I do?"
Valoya shrugged her shoulders. Her nonchalance annoyed him.
"I would appreciate your insight!" huffed Solas.
Valoya smirked.
"The mighty Fen'Harel taking advice from a lowly sentinel elf. My husband will laugh until his face turns blue. How far you have fallen. Ma nuvenin, Harellan. If it is advice you want from a wedded woman. Ara dirthera ma".
"Yes?" urged Solas. "I am waiting".
Valoya laughed.
"Stop wagging your tongue. You talk too much, Harellan. You heard Ellana say she missed her friend, Dorian. If you want her to trust you again. You must stop flapping your gums and start using your ears to hear her words".
Solas frowned. "Ma serannas, though I wonder why you are so civil now. You would have put an arrow through my brain a moment ago. Killing me would have been easier than having this conversation. Have you an ulterior motive, Valoya?"
Valoya's smile was sharp and cutting like a blade. Her green eyes shone as she regarded him like a falcon would a mouse. He was the final thread of a rope that was slowly unravelling. She turned away from him, golden braid swinging as she walked to the entrance of his tent. Her words were final, the message clear, as she took her leave.
"Mythal enaste lasa sulahn'nehn Elvhen. Mythal abelas lasa di'nan Elvhen".
A twinge of foreboding made Solas shiver. He grimaced when Valoya stepped outside. She had gone to rejoin Ellana and her remaining host of sentinel elves. Solas sighed when a familiar friend entered his tent. The leather flaps rustled in the wind.
"Cole", greeted Solas.
The Spirit of Compassion assumed Ellana's empty seat. The stool creaked as he sat down. Cole folded his hands in his lap. He twiddled his thumbs. His anxiety annoyed Solas.
"What troubles you?"
Cole gestured to the fur covering Solas from chin to toe.
"You never noticed".
"I did not notice what?" hissed Solas.
"You slept in Ellana's bed".
Solas gave his bed a curious glance. He examined the brown fur, likely he guessed, from the back of a great bear. It was soft, thick, and full, and perfectly preserved. The work of a master tanner. Solas's hand slipped beneath it to prod the bedroll upon which he lay.
The leather was buttery beneath his fingers. The texture soft and supple. It was another perfect example of Ellana's craftsmanship. The Dalish had taught their hunters well. The stuffing was thick and warm too, showing that time and effort had gone into the bedroll's making.
"Oh", mumbled Solas.
He was at a loss for words.
"Is that all you can say?" chided Cole. "She did a lot more than just giving you her bed".
The disapproving expression upon his face infuriated Solas.
"Do not keep me in suspense forever".
Cole sighed.
"Well, Solas. Ellana made an awful fuss when Ilcen suggested drowning you in the stream behind her hut. She said your bloated corpse would only foul the water. She was afraid Ilcen would cut your throat while you slept. So she sent him off with Hawen and Minaeve".
Solas groaned.
Cole nodded gravely. "Ilcen would have killed you given the chance".
"Not unlike Valoya", said Solas. "Fenedhis lasa. I owe Ellana a life-debt twice over".
"Unfortunately", affirmed Cole. "Yes".
"Abelas must have planned this from the beginning", mused Solas.
Cole wisely gave Ellana's lover credit for the idea.
"I'm afraid he did".
Elvish Translations: Courtesy of the Dragon Age Wiki – Elven Language.
Harellan – Trickster.
Fenedhis – An elven curse, likely translated to 'wolf crap' or similar.
Setheneran – The Land of Waking Dreams – aka the Fade .
Ma emma lath – You are, my love.
Ir abelas ma vhenan – I am sorry, my heart.
Nae – No.
Ar vallem ma tel'ghilas – I ask you not to go.
Uthenera - The 'Eternal waking dream', entered by ancient elven elders who wished to end their long lives.
Irassal ma ghilas. Ar ma ghilas – Where ever you go. I will follow.
Din'anshiral – A journey of death.
Fen'Harel – The Dread Wolf – aka Solas.
Harellan – Trickster.
Dirthara ma athim – May you learn humility.
Garas – Come.
Dareth shiral – Safe journey – A Dalish farewell.
Elvhen isala Fen'Harel – Our people need the Dread Wolf.
Ar tu na'din – I will kill you.
Ma nuvenin – As you wish.
Ara dirthera ma – I will tell you.
Mythal enaste lasa sulahn'nehn Elvhen – Mythal's favour will bring our people happiness.
Mythal abelas lasa di'nan Elvhen – Mythal's sorrow will bring our people death.
Fenedhis lasa – An elven curse, likely translated into 'grant or give me wolf crap' or similar.