In A Manner of My Choosing
By Pyreite
Warning: This chapter contains coarse language. Discretion is advised.
Stable
Ellana cinched her belt. She ignored Solas as she checked the ties on her pouches. She was relieved she hadn't lost any of her lockpicks and various other tools. He had been rough with her possessions during the ceremonial disrobing before sex. Her love for him came second to her prized set of custom hand-crafted tools.
A rogue was only half a thief without the proper assortment of lockpicks.
"Good. I didn't lose anything".
Solas tightened the buckles of his breastplate.
"I swear, vhenan", he complained. "You love your tools more than you love me".
"Of course I do".
He glared at her belt with its myriad pouches, pockets, and hidden things.
"It's not like I can stick your big bald head in a lock and pick it".
Solas was annoyed by Ellana's sassiness. She had a fierce spirit, but rarely was she impudent. He frowned when she rolled her eyes. Her exasperation spoke volumes about the nature of their relationship. A few hours of intimacy had not guaranteed him an equal footing in her life.
She had more respect for her friends.
"You are angry with me".
Ellana's nose wrinkled in disdain.
"Did you just figure that out now?"
Solas didn't like the way she repeated his own statement. He would have argued the point if Ellana hadn't held up a stiff forefinger. Her stern expression gave him pause. Solas recognised the universal sign for silence. He held his tongue.
Ellana reminded him of his misdeeds.
"You lied to me, used me, and abandoned me. For the past two years I didn't know if you were dead or alive. After months of thinking the worst, you pop up in Val Royeaux, and I find you trying to thwart a Qunari invasion. I know you're not some weird hedge-mage hobo Cassandra found under a rock".
Ellana gestured to him with a flick of her fingers.
"You're Fen'Harel – The Dread Wolf of dalish legend. The Lord of Tricksters, the Bringer of Nightmares, the Great Wolf and so on. I guess they forgot you were the King of Liars and the Teller of Half-Truths. Maybe you should change your name to Harellan. It would fit you better considering all the bullshit you've spouted".
Sera choked on her own spit. She doubled-over gagging when the Iron Bull smacked her between the shoulder-blades. She staggered and coughed until she'd caught her breath. She had travelled through the Eluvians too. She had seen the frescoes and mosaics immortalising an elven man cloaked in a wolf's pelt.
She knew what Ellana did.
Sera also understood enough of the elven tongue to know what she'd said.
"What's a Harrylong?" asked the Iron Bull.
"I think she said Herellorn", answered Dorian.
"She called him a Harellan", croaked Sera.
"Right", declared Bull. "I'm guessing that it means something bad".
Solas gave Ellana a hard look. He had been called many terrible things in his long life. It hurt to hear his beloved utter the same lies. He could accept her anger, but not her ignorance. The Dalish had gotten too many things wrong.
"I am a liar and a trickster", admitted Solas. "But I am not a traitor".
"Yup", concluded the Iron Bull. "It was bad".
"Very bad", seconded Dorian.
"Well, shit", cursed Sera. "She's scowling and glowing at the same time. She only looks that mad when she wants to kill someone. My bet is on the bald arsehole with a gob bigger than his brain. 'Cause only an idiot would tell that big a lie to the woman who loves him".
"Sera", groaned Solas. "I can hear you".
"Well it's about bloody time you daft, tit".
Sera flapped her hand at Ellana.
"Don't you go killing him yet. Only he can fix your hand remember? It was all glowy and boomy and going bang-bang a couple of hours ago. Made a right mess of those Sarebossy things with all the magical hurricane sucky-stuff. I'll be picking Qunari guts out of my hair for weeks".
"Sera!" groaned the Iron Bull.
"Shut it!" she cried. "You're Tal Vashoth now!"
"I know", replied Bull. "But it still hurts".
"Didn't stop you from picking 'em off like flies".
"Sera!" reproved Dorian. "That's enough!"
Sera pouted. "I'm sorry, Bull". She wrung her hands and shuffled her feet. "I'm just worried about Inky. I didn't mean to take my temper out on you".
Bull sighed. "It's all right".
"No it's not!", barked Dorian.
"Kadan!"
Dorian stuck his nose in the air.
"I am not forgiving her for treating you badly".
"I said I was sorry!" wheedled Sera.
Ellana groaned in annoyance. "Wonderful. Now you've pissed everyone off. Nice work, Solas. You've done it again".
The Dread Wolf rolled his eyes. "This was not my doing".
"Yes it was".
"It was not".
"Liar".
"Vhenan!"
Ellana glowered when he approached. She snatched her hand back when he tried to touch her. She side-stepped and he followed. She was furious when he grabbed the flowing tail of her overcoat. She was caught, hook, line, and sinker when he reeled her in like a fish.
"Garas ma!"
"Let go of me!"
"Vhenan!" scolded Solas. "Stop acting like a child!"
Ellana was enraged by the insult. She whirled on the balls of her feet. She took Solas by surprise when she grasped his gauntleted wrist. She peeled his fingers away, one at a time, from the tail of her overcoat. She pushed him back with a hard shove.
"Don't".
"Vhenan".
Ellana jabbed a finger under his nose. "You're not my husband".
"I am your lover", countered Solas.
"You won't bed me again".
"We shall see".
Ellana offered him her left-hand. She ignored his surprised expression. It was a small and necessary concession. Only Solas understood the magic of the Anchor. Ellana was irritated when his gauntleted fingers slid over her own with practised ease.
Even with his hands encased in steel, the man was undeniably gentle.
"This is impossible!" gasped Solas.
"What is it?" demanded Ellana.
"Your mark is stable".
Ellana stared at him.
"Stable?"
"Yes", confirmed Solas. "The magic of the Orb of Fen'Harel is no longer killing you".
Elvish and Qunlat Translations: Courtesy of the Dragon Age Wiki – Elven Language
Vhenan – Heart.
Fen'Harel – The Dread Wolf – The elven god of Rebellion, Betrayal, and Trickery.
Solas – Pride.
Harellan – Trickster, traitor to one's kin.
Garas ma – Come to me.
Kadan – Where the heart lies – Used by Qunari for someone they care about.