In A Manner of My Choosing
By Pyreite
Epilogue
Solas gazed into the depths of the Vir'abelasan. The pool was murky though he heard the whispers beneath the rippling waves. The words were a buzz of sound, snatches of incomprehensible nonsense. Never anything clear enough to understand. The past servants of Mythal refused to share what few secrets they had left.
A problem he'd anticipated but still found irksome.
The sentinel elves living and dead disapproved of his alliance with their mistress. They were polite even courteous in their dealings with him but not by choice. He suspected they endured his presence at the temple out of obligation to Mythal. They kept their opinions to themselves and a respectful distance. Only one sentinel, acting on behalf of his brethren had said more than two words to him in a month.
Solas felt his presence before he saw him. The magic binding Mythal's servants to her spirit thrumming like the plucked string of a lute. It was less a vibration of sound, more a buzz of electricity across his skin raising goose-flesh. Solas relished the feel of the spell, a welcome reminder of ancient Arlathan. It was old magic, a simple ritual that had a profound affect on those it was cast.
Abelas demonstrated that profundity with the simplest of emotions. Solas felt the sentinel's curiosity sparkle like a diamond on the fringes of his awareness. The magic binding them together more like a bridge than a chain. Solas sensed that curiosity morph into something dark, hot, and hungry. He sucked in an alarmed breath, cheeks reddening when Abelas apologised.
"Ir abelas. I cannot help but want you".
That thread of shared consciousness cracked like a bludgeon across the back of his skull. Solas' ears rang as if he'd been clouted about the head. Hard. His lost focus for a moment, his steel-shod feet sliding across the flagstones. He stiffened the instant a pair of gauntleted hands gripped his shoulders.
The raw strength in Abelas' fingers stopped him from toppling into the Vir'abelasan.
"Careful", called the sentinel. "It would be humiliating if the bearer of Mythal's soul drowned in the pool of her own magic".
Solas gripped his rescuer's arms in turn, fingers tight on his wrists. He uttered neither thanks nor recrimination, though he did give Abelas a firm shove. The sentinel held tight, the magical bond between them giving Solas a flash of insight. He gasped when Abelas leaned inward, the chapped dryness of his lips brushing a cheek. Solas turned his face away before the sentinel could plunder his mouth with a kiss.
Abelas snickered in his ear, his amusement as hot as the breath on his skin.
"Desist!" snapped Solas.
"You are too easy to rile".
"I will not ask you again!"
His eyes flashed a fiery blue in warning. Abelas released him with an abruptness that had him stumbling. Solas managed to right himself before he tumbled into the waiting waters of the Vir'abelasan. The pool glittered an inch beneath his nose. The splayed fingers of each hand on either side of his head were reflected along with his face.
The water shivered as the breeze picked up.
Solas glared at the reflection of the smirking golden-eyed sentinel leering at him. He was on his knees beside the pool, furious and red-faced with embarrassment. He ignored the gilded gauntleted hand thrust out towards him. Abelas' golden eyes twinkled. He withdrew his hand with a nod of acceptance, unoffended by Solas' refusal.
"If you cannot stand my touch. I fear your already grim reputation among my people will worsen. You are hated, Fen'Harel. Rejecting the affection of the least of Mythal's acolytes can and will sour the opinions of the rest. Mythal was more than our mistress as you well know".
Solas righted himself with sheer stubbornness, getting to his feet without Abelas' help. He stood beside the Vir'abelasan, sucking in a startled breath when the water surged towards him. Pale hands with skeletal fingers reached for him an inch beneath the surface. Solas stepped back from the rim of the Well when those hands were joined by a pale face. Skin like porcelain was stretched over a skull with large black eyes.
The thin lips, haggard cheeks, and wispy flaxen hair reminded Solas of a mummified corpse. The only thing elven about it were the large withered ears, each with a sharp knife-like point. The water sloshed about the rim of the Vir'abelasan. Solas grimaced when he heard the scratching. The persistent grind was akin to the honing of a blade on a whetstone.
The creature floating about the edge of the pool, beckoned with a flick of its bony fingers. Solas saw several more ghostly figures beyond it. All were pale and shrunken inside their ragged robes and rusted plate-armour. Each with a face like ice, teeth like needles, and eyes tar-black without a glimmer of light. Solas backed away from the Vir'abelasan, when Abelas warned him.
"Stay away from the pool".
"What are they?"
Abelas was more honest than he expected. "Not what, but whom". He gestured to the elf-like spectres waiting in the water. "My predecessors and my companions. The spirits of the Vir'abelasan".
"Your dead", corrected Solas. "Given to the Well of Sorrows".
"They swore an oath to serve in all things, during their lives and beyond them".
"They are Elvhen not slaves".
Abelas scoffed. "That is not for you to decide. They drank from the Vir'abelasan of their own volition. They are bound to Mythal. If you detest the circumstance by which you came into Mythal's power than by all means relinquish it".
Solas' eyes narrowed. "I cannot".
Abelas arched a silver eyebrow. "Then stop complaining. You belittle my people when you question their right to serve Mythal. She found them worthy. If you could but keep your disdain for them behind your teeth. They might be more tolerant of your presence in the Temple of Mythal".
Solas scowled. He didn't like words being put in his mouth. "I am not disdainful of their choice to serve Mythal".
"Is that so?"
Abelas took a step towards him, reaching with a gilded gauntleted hand. Solas jerked away before those steel-strong fingers could clamp onto his shoulder. Abelas tried again with a determined gleam in his eye. Solas side-stepped, avoiding him. He raised a hand when Abelas advanced again, the grey of his eyes glowing a fiery blue.
Abelas paused, frowning. "You would dare to use Mythal's magic against me?" He didn't move forward, or reach for Solas again. He was rooted on the spot, bristling with agitation. "I am a loyal servant and guardian of her last bastion in Elvhenan".
Abelas inclined his head like a curious dog. "If you would petrify me in imperishable stone. You had best flee from the Temple, before a spear finds its way into your back". He lifted a gauntleted hand, gesturing about them in a wide circle. A throng of sentinel elves shimmered into existence, armoured in silver and gold.
They each carried a long gilded pole capped with a leaf-like spearhead. Each spear was raised high, and soon aimed at Solas' back. The sentinel elves glowered, their faces grim. Each man and woman regarded the bearer of Mythal's spirit with contempt. They were unimpressed by Solas' implied threats.
"What is your choice?" challenged Abelas. "If you seek to betray the legacy of Mythal. Then do what you must. You might kill me, perhaps even a few of my companions. You will not slay them all before you are speared like a wild boar".
"Desist!" roared Solas. "Now!"
Abelas exhaled wearily when the magic of the Vir'abelasan slackened. He was unperturbed when the newest incarnation of his mistress gaped at him in disbelief. Solas' brows furrowed as he glanced from Abelas to the sentinels around them. He was too startled to believe what he was seeing. The magic that bound them to Mythal had not forced their obedience.
Each sentinel elf was still armed, their spears poised to cast.
"You cannot force what you cannot accept", said Abelas. "You disdain the bond we share with Mythal. A wilful rejection on your part. It weakens the tether that binds us to her will. As such we are not under your command".
Solas tensed when Abelas appraised him. The sentinel snorted, and expressed his profound disappointment.
"You are not as I remember you to be. Gone is the proud cockerel that strutted about Mythal's court, admired and envied by all. In his place stands a man burdened by guilt and grief. Your spirit is broken. You will never be ready or willing to lead us".
Solas stared at him. "To what?"
"To war", said Abelas. "If the Veil is torn down. The Evanuris will wake in the void and return. The world will burn. So will we. It is inevitable that they will wreak vengeance on those still loyal to Mythal".
Solas shook his head, eyes widening in horror. "No".
"My people and I are destined to die in the conflagration you ignite".
"No!"
"It cannot be avoided", counselled Abelas. "It is a miracle we survived the first invasion of the Temple of Mythal. Our numbers have declined during successive invasions. We are not as innumerable as we once were. As such no elvhen child has wandered the temple halls in five thousand years".
Solas remembered having Ellana on a bed of grass beneath the sun not more than a few days ago. He swallowed his pride with a bitterness that made his stomach churn. He lifted his chin, brows furrowing. He returned Abelas' scrutiny, hating himself for those brief hours of self-indulgence. He'd wanted her with a fierceness that'd surprised him.
He'd had her too, over and over again until they'd lain sated in each other's arms.
"That could change", replied Solas. "I cannot be certain for a matter of months, but it is possible that I seeded a child in the womb of a Dalish elf".
Abelas stared at him. "You have lain with one of the shemlen?"
"Yes".
"Who?"
"The elven woman that led the forces of the Inquisition when Corypheus invaded. She took the petitioner's path, earning her entrance into the Temple of Mythal. She bore the Anchor, my mark when first she came here. Now she might carry my child".
Abelas heard the sentinel elves mutter amongst themselves. Some exchanged bewildered looks, whilst others listened with attentive ears. They waited with bated breath for Solas' reply. This was welcome news after centuries of danger and disappointment. A new life, a child of the Elvhen might yet be brought into the world.
"Was it a moment of weakness?"
"No", stated Solas with a wistfulness that seemed unlike him. "It was love. She is my vhenan".
"Your heart", said Abelas. "You have done more than bed her. You have lost yourself, heart, mind, and all to one of the shemlen. I would never have thought it possible. She must be a remarkable woman".
He paused, head turning when several of the sentinel elves lowered their spears. They were gazing with wide-eyed incredulity at Solas. Some were appalled by the news that he'd lain with a mortal, but many more were hopeful.
"Could she be pregnant?" asked one sentinel. He gestured to Solas with a flick of his fingers. He gasped when Abelas nodded. "It is as Mythal promised!" he cried, elated. "She must be brought back to the temple at once for the ceremony of consecration!"
That fiery-blue light faded from Solas' eyes. He glanced at the sentinel elves, noting their change in mood. Their faces were wreathed in wary but satisfied smiles. One sentinel gave him a nod of deference, where once before he'd been scornful. Solas was even more unnerved when Abelas eyed him with new-found respect.
"What consecration ceremony?" he demanded.
"You have taken a consort who might well carry your child", explained Abelas. "Your vhenan's life and that of her babe now belong to Mythal. It is tradition. You carry our mistress' soul. That which is yours is now her's by right of inheritance".
Solas gaped at him, not quite understanding. "What?"
"Your vhenan is destined to become Mythal's new vessel", explained Abelas. "If she is indeed with child and the babe is a girl. That child will be a replacement when her mother perishes. A contingency should Mythal need a new body".
Several of the sentinel elves nodded in unison.
Abelas continued unperturbed by Solas' growing agitation.
"The shemlen witch that drank from the Vir'abelasan was intended as Mythal's next vessel. Her betrayal is the only reason you were chosen as a substitute. It has always been Mythal's way since the birth of Elvhenan. She would bear a daughter to take her place, an heir born of her own body. Since that is no longer possible, your vhenan will take Morrigan's place".
"Nae!" hissed Solas.
"It is not for you to refuse. She belongs to Mythal".
"You do not understand! Something has happened to her that cannot be undone! Not even in death!"
Abelas frowned when Solas shook his head. The pained expression on his face gave him pause. "What have you done?" he demanded. He grew suspicious the instant the corners of Solas' mouth turned down unhappily. Something hadn't gone to plan.
"Ellana awoke the spirit imprisoned inside my foci. The true source of the power associated with my name. My twin, my brother, and reflection – the wolf-spirit Fen'Harel. He marked her with the Anchor, with his vallaslin, and thus is bound to her for all eternity. If you seek my vhenan than I fear it will be your last endeavour in this world".
Solas returned Abelas' scrutiny with a determined glint in his eye. "You cannot take her without him, not even with the power of Mythal. They are bound to each other. If you seek to separate them. Fen'Harel will not hesitate to kill you".
Abelas stared at him, his golden eyes widening in disbelief. "You would have us commit sacrilege?"
"You have little choice".
"She belongs to Mythal!"
"She cannot if you want your people to survive", cautioned Solas. "My vhenan belongs to the spirit of Fen'Harel. He loves her as I do. And he will not allow anyone to come between them again. If you choose this path than it will be the end of you all".
Abelas glared at him, comprehending what Solas had left unspoken. "You will not help us recover her".
"I will not".
"You have a duty to Mythal!"
"My duty is to the Elvhen", corrected Solas. "As infuriating as it is. You will have to be content with your place, Abelas. I will not take a consort among you, nor will I indulge your needs as you have put it. I will lead you against the Evanuris and into the new world".
"And that is all?"
"That is all".
Abelas' eyes narrowed. He bowed his head in obeisance though there was a hard flintiness in his gaze. "You would lead my people to their graves", he growled, baring his teeth in a savage smile. "I would have them live. I do not think our future lies with you or Mythal".
Solas was taken aback by his honesty. "Where would you go?"
"To the one you were named for".
"You cannot mean to ally yourself with Fen'Harel!"
"Why not?" countered Abelas. "He will rise against the Evanuris if only to protect his vhenan. If she is as formidable as you believe. Then we will march under her banner, for her beloved will be her greatest ally. If she will not become Mythal than she is destined for something greater than you or I know".
Solas went quiet when the rest of the sentinel elves muttered amidst themselves. Some fell silent in bewilderment whilst others considered what Abelas had said. It was the sentinel that had exclaimed Mythal's blessing that agreed without contest. He voiced his opinion loud and clear for all to hear. His fellow sentinels were soon nodding in agreement too.
"If Mythal's heir is engaged to the spirit of Fen'Harel, then our path is clear. It is as Abelas has said. Our duty is now to safeguard her and her child in the days to come. If we cannot bring her back to the Temple of Mythal. We must go to her instead".
"Yes!" cried one sentinel.
"It is wisest!" urged another. "If she is Mythal's heir than she will need our guardianship and our counsel in the dark days to come!"
"Yes", agreed Abelas. "Then it is decided. We will leave the Temple of Mythal in three days. Make ready. The journey will be long, though it will be eased by travelling through the Eluvians as we once did in days past".
He gave Solas a pointed look. "If you will not accept our service. We will interpret the will of Mythal as we see fit. We will seek out your beloved and offer her our protection in the coming war with the Evanuris. You will facilitate our need by giving us access to the Eluvian network under your control".
"That would be unwise", warned Solas.
"I am not asking".
"Abelas".
"You have done few honourable things in your life. Let this be the first. My people need a future. Ellana can provide it. If you cannot abide our presence then perhaps she will".
He turned his back on Solas without waiting for a response. "You have two days to decide", he warned. "Whatever you choose. My people and I will be gone by dusk of the third day. We will leave by way of the Eluvians or by the road".
Solas watched the sentinel elves follow suit. One after another they gave him disapproving looks. Some shook their heads, while others regarded him with pity. They murmured amidst themselves, though not one of them addressed him. Solas heard snatches of their conversations as they turned away. The sentinel elves spoke of foolishness, arrogance, and lost opportunities.
Solas watched them go with a heavy heart, wondering if this was part of Mythal's plan. He looked towards the Vir'abelasan, brows furrowing when he saw a face reflected in its waters. He moved closer, the gilded toes of his boots coming to rest before the pool's paved edge. He glanced downward, seeing that face again. A woman with hair as white as snow and eyes like liquid amber regarded him with an apologetic look.
Solas heard her voice echo in the depths of his soul.
Forgive me, ma falon. I had little choice. If I am to survive the war with the Evanuris. I must have a bastion yet left in the Thedas where I can retreat to should we fail. Your beloved and her child will serve if things go awry.
"Nae", he told her with a sense of certainty. "Ellana will not be yours anymore than our child should she bear my seed. She was mine for a handful of hours. She will be my brother's for an eternity. It is not I with whom you must contend to claim her. It is Fen'Harel, and he does not share".