Thanks for reading! Additional translations in the end notes.

The party was back in Skyhold by the middle of Bloomingtide.

Mahariel jumped down her hart and right into stealth. She had the firm intention to take a bath before anyone shove any report, request or whatever into her hands.

Once the bath was done and she was back in comfortable outfits, she did not have a lot of choice but to go right to the War Room. They had to discuss what Stroud told them. The Grey Warden situation was not getting any better.

After the meeting, she took the reports and headed for the battlements. It was her best chance to be actually alone, without the nobles jumping at her. She hesitated on the way when she glanced at the closed door of the rotunda. She had wanted nothing more than to go through it all morning. She bit her bottom lip and shook her head with a self-directed scowl. No, not wise. Damn, she really thought the time out was going to put some sense into her head and vanquished the ill-considered feelings. Did not go that well. She had spent a third of this time thinking that he would have like seeing something, a third thinking that she had to tell him about what was in front of her, and the last one chastising herself for the two others. Fenedhis. She was deep in it.

She made her way on the battlements, enjoying the hint of fresh wind. She sat on the ground, the papers all around her laps. Absorbed by her reading and thinking, she did not hear the steps coming towards her. She was biting her bottom lip and playing with her hair – as she did when she was focused. She startled at the voice.

"Inquisitor?" Focused as she was, she did not give thoughts at the voice and nothing but yell, expecting yet another Orlesian.

"VENEDHIS, is it so hard to see I'm busy?!"

Her head spun towards the trespasser and her eyes widened, mouth ajar. That was not how she had pictured greeting him.

"Fasta vass, sorry lethallin! The nobles are driving me crazy! They are competing to become my rightful shadow. I…What – what can I do for you?" She babbled, blushing of embarrassment for snapping at him.

"This is quite the title." Said he, suppressing a smile. "I should not have bothered you, Inquisitor. I will let you return to your duties."

She watched him turning back with disbelief and jumped on her feet. She grabbed his arm.

"I will not beg you to stay, Mage." Solas raised an eyebrow and a sparkle of disappointment appeared in his eyes.

"Mage?"

"If you keep up with Inquisitor, mage it is." Her knowing smile comforted him and he smirked.

"Fair point, Mahariel." They stayed few seconds in a more or less comfortable silence before he resumed. "Lethallan, I had to ask you something."

This time the sparkle of disappointment was in her eyes. Of course, it was why. Why would it be about anything else? Oh yes, because they did not exchange a word in two months, for example! Not that he was to blame for that, she was the one gone and who asked him to keep an eye on Vivienne. Not that there was someone to blame, by the way, that was the right call…But pragmatic thought had kind of left her mind as soon as he appeared, focusing on the simple task of not jumping in his arms. She answered dryly.

"I'm listening."

Solas was not looking at her, decided to keep himself in check. Her absence had not been as efficient as he thought to drive the ill-considered feelings out of him either. Quite the opposite actually, he was worried sick during the whole time. The spymaster had been accommodating and kept him updated on the reports she got without teasing. He simply nodded each time but she could tell his eyes were full of gratefulness.

He hesitated before coming to her. He suspected her aloof attitude since she arrived at Skyhold was more or less due to the same matter. If it was so, she was wiser than him. Or maybe he made her uncomfortable…Words flew naturally from his mouth with her and he was only half sure a vhenan had been said. But he had to talk to her, he could have sent her a message but eventually, he could not avoid her for this.

"Would you mind my presence in your quarters later? It has revealed hard to find a free-time in your schedule with the Ambassador." She paused a sec, looking at him with wide eyes. She genuinely laughed.

"Solas, you do not need to schedule with Josie! Potentially, you knock, that's it! Truth be told, I could use the distraction. I'm drowning under Orlesian mess!" He smirked.

"I shall keep that in mind." He cleared his throat. "I will see you later then." Once again, she grabbed his arm, looking with disgust at the reports.

"Does it have to be later?" He chuckled, his eyes quickly meeting hers.

"Ma nuvenin, lethallan." He reached for the papers and gathered these in his hands. She grinned and walked quickly and lightly. Before they went through the door of the main hall, she stopped.

"Wait! Give me some reports, keep the others and look at them with your serious face." He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and don't forget the concerned Fade-expert talk!" He chuckled and nodded. She smiled and declared "Show's on!" before slamming the door. She suddenly spoke louder, her steps confident and urgent.

"Considering these reports, we have to deal with this area ASAP. The risks of new rifts in such crowded region cannot be ignored."

"I fear you are right, Inquisitor. Measuring the Veil is not easy task but I do believe these reports reliable on."

"I am taking your word on it, Solas. So, if I understood properly – "

They crossed successfully the doorstep of her quarters before her sentence came to an end. Relieved, she turned back and pulled instinctively her arms around his neck, hugging him. Surprised at first, he gave her embrace back with warm heart.

"Nice job, Mage!" She teased him. He grinned.

"I see you put your remarkable drama skills at good use."

A giggle crossed her lips. She tried poorly to cover it with a cough, leading to an amused chuckle of the apostate. He felt her hot breath in his neck, sending a shiver through his spine. Damn he liked this giggle of hers, flirty and coy. Finally realizing what she was doing, she quitted the embrace with a blush. One thing, one freaking thing NOT to do and you manage to fail gloriously. With a sign of her head, she invited him to come upstairs. His eyes lingered a bit of their own will as she walked in front of him. Once they were upstairs, she decided to prepare some tea – mostly to keep her hands from doing anything stupid. Again. He stopped her with his hand.

"Let me, lethallan. What kind of elven servant would I be if I was to let you do your own tea?" She blinked, not sure she heard correctly.

"Elven servant?"

"This is the was the nobles of your hall call me." Answered he lightly. Apparently, it did not amuse her that much.

"They call you what? These felasil'en are going to hear me!" He grabbed her hand as she was about to storm through the stairs.

"Tel'isala, vhenan. I do not mind and I even rather keep it this way."

"What? Why? They say that just because you have pointed ears!" He smiled slightly.

"This way they do not bother speaking to me as they do with the ones they consider of importance." She mumbled, her anger a bit appeased.

"Still don't like it…Sure you don't want me to kick their stupid feather-asses?"

"Absolutely." He answered with a muttered laughter. His eyes were staring into hers, soft and caring. He added quietly, his hand drawing her jawline "But I appreciate the thought, vhenan."

She blushed a little, her mind at ease. Two in a row. It seemed so natural each time, the thought of pointing them out didn't even cross her mind – she was not even sure he was self-aware of his use of the term. Not that she admitted to herself she was afraid he would stop using it if she made a comment. She was rather uncomfortable with all this. The flirt had been a mean to an end for a long-time. This whole honesty-based, not ulterior-motive thing…The last time she experienced that, it did not end up well. At all. These stolen moments with him, natural and never mentioned afterwards, were all she could currently manage. She was, however, wondering about them…Were they casual flirts or did he realize her lack of ability in the matter? Or maybe it was the same for him…She couldn't guess. Well, casual flirt and calling her vhenan seemed…Unlikely. But she did not want to let the thoughts dawdle too much this way.

His eyes glanced dangerously at her lips. He took back his hand gently despite a certain urge to step back and went prepare the mentioned tea. You are so deep in it. You have to stop it, you make her uncomfortable – she started it – No, she hugged you friendly down the stairs, you started the ambiguous part – THIS is not the debate, no matter who started what, it has to stop, you cannot allow it – she is…so much more than I expected, maybe… - maybe nothing you simply CANNOT. But whatever the words in his head, they all disappeared as soon as he looked back at her.

She sat quietly on the seat facing his, the table between them. She waited to look him take a sip, for the pleasure of his creasing disgusted nose when he tastes the stuff. As it happened as predicted, she hid a giggle. Never missing. She took her mug. She felt the boiling water suddenly reaching an ideal warmth right before it came to her lips. Solas had his eyes on the reports. She smiled slightly and pointed out.

"I could have done that."

"Do not take away the charges of a humble servant."

He kept his head down but peered up at her eyes with a wolfish smirk. She felt a thrill running down her neck. The smoothness and playfulness in his voice and this teasing look. Not only teasing. Hungry, filled with lust. Her cheeks burnt. The little shadow over his curved lips…Fenedhis, she was yearning to close the space between them, to taste his lips, to – Hopefully he ceased the look and got back to the reports.

She suppressed a sigh of relief. Her skin was on fire. She waited few seconds for dignity before urging to the window. Well, from the outside, she walked to the window nonchalantly but the truth was she urged there, in deep need for fresh air. Or snow. Or ice. Yes, ice would be nice. She opened it and took a deep breath on the balcony. This was unexpected…This is what you get for not thinking twice. Yes of course come in my quarters, how could it be a bad idea? 'Tis not like the fear demon haunting me had been replaced by a desire one! Dirthamen ar halani, is it even possible he did not notice? Well, at least he is polite enough to pretend so. Finding some composure back, she asked.

"I take it you wanted to talk to me?"

"Indeed. This is kind of a personal matter…" The fear which just left came back in a rush. NO no no no no - She considered seriously climbing down the guardrail. "I wanted to know if you had encounter any trouble with the Anchor lately."

"Oh that!" She sighed, a weight leaving her shoulders. He looked at her, somewhere between questioning and teasing.

"Were you expected some other topic, lethallan?" But he could not beat her so easily.

"Considering the nobles downstairs, I was expecting another report about pointed-ears heathen sacrifice tale."

Smart woman. He realized only with her reaction his introduction could have been used in a very different context…Which will indeed require words to be said sooner or later. But he was not more eager than she was to have this particular conversation so the postponing was welcome for both parts. He would bring it up if he thought she was going to talk him out of his insane fantasies. But he was not so sure about it, considering. Chances were even for her talking him out or in – and he clearly did not need to be talked in. If one of them could stop it – whatever it was – it was her.

She did not notice, but she was the one breaking the stare earlier. It had been subtle, but remained her doing. He was close to jump over the table and kiss her with all the passion he was holding back. He was craving for her. For her touch, her warmth, her taste, her lips on his…His mind way too often wandered, wondering about the taste of her mouth and her skin, how would sound her voice as she moans – NO. You cannot do that. Not to her, she deserves better than a liar – I did not lie – considering the omissions we are talking about, it is hardly better. How dare you even think about IT?! Fenedhis I need a bucket of cold water. Snow. Ice. Definitely Ice. When she had stood up, his eyes slipped towards her hips once more. The black outfit under the apprentice coat was tight, letting him guess her curves. Not sure it was so much better than the front with its cleavage. And this silver thread lining both the low neckline and her waist. I am going to need a full avalanche…

He was contemplating her with adoration. When she came back towards him, he looked at her face. The vallaslin were of a light grey ink, and – despite their cruel meaning – they suited her face, as a light-shadow effect on her forehead and chin. Her deep green-blue lagoon eyes with this indescribable sparkle in it. This sparkle screaming Elvhen. He hid a jolt when her answer about the mark interrupted his contemplation. Even if she was saying everything was fine, he asked to take a look. She always answered everything was fine when it was about her. She nodded and took off her glove. He felt his skin burning again with the simple gesture. He decided swiftly to find a topic to talk about during the check-up, otherwise he feared the physical contact was going to be too much to take.

"If you don't mind me asking, I have been wondering, why Ghilan'nain vallaslin?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Why not? Halla are noble animals." He suppressed a chuckle. So difficult.

"I did not question that. However, you were in your clan long enough to receive the blood-writing. I assume you were First or Second of the Keeper. Shouldn't you have follow the vir Atish'an and received Sylaise markings?"

"You notice surely what a disaster I am at healing." His thoughts wandered out loud and he did not realize the subtle soundproofing falling around them.

"Your skills in combat…You followed the training of an assassin, the vir Banal'ras." Her back straightened the slightest. "This is unusual for a Dalish mage. And it does not explain the vallaslin." She remained silent a bit.

"I see I was wrong. You do know a lot about the Dalish ways." She paused, examining his face, tilted as he was above her hand, looking for any signs. She finally asked. "Are you going somewhere with these considerations of yours?" He looked up at her questioningly, feeling her voice slightly colder.

"My apologies if I pried, lethallan. It was not my intention." She examined again his features with suspicion. She bit her bottom lip, hesitating. She finally let out.

"My mother was the halla Keeper of the clan. In clan Lavellan, the tradition is that the charge is hereditary. Despite my magic which prevented me from taking the said charge, the circumstances of my departure made that I was granted the vallaslin of my bloodline." She looked at her right shoulder where rested her braid. "And their hair. Lucky me."

"What do you mean?" She pointed the braid.

"The hair of the halla-Keeper is bleached during the vallaslin ritual. As a symbol of our connection to the herd."

"I see. That does answer another question." She smirked.

"I was feeling generous today."

He peered up at her with a discreet smile. She was making light of it, but sharing anything of her past had been a complicated matter ever since they met. That she was willing to open up to him was warming his chest.

"You did not have a say in this, did you?" She shrugged.

"Let's say they did not really considered the consistence of bleaching the hair of an assassin. Jet-black hair did not require that much hiding. White, on the other hand, are kind of noticeable. And no freaking way to dye them. I'm not sure how it is done for it to remain for life. I suspect it has to do with lyrium." She took a little strand between her fingers and winced at it. She swiftly shook her head and grinned. "Hopefully my eyebrows remained black, Creators it would have been awful otherwise!" A sparkle crossed Solas' eyes.

"I doubt that, lethallan." He smiled but it soon turned into a disapproval look, even anger-tainted. "I however cannot believe your people would distort a child with no further question." She suddenly took her hand back from him, openly offended.

"You think I'm distorted?!"

"No! It was a poor choice of words, it is not what I meant. You are perfect just as you are, but your own will should have been part of the equation." He explained himself in a rush. True enough…She subsided and put her hand back on the table. He had actually finished with his examination anyway. A sad smile clang to her mouth.

"The Dalish are what they are. Back then, the idea of protesting did not even cross my mind. Why would it? This was – and still is in some extent – an honor, a pride, a symbol of belonging I earned." She paused and closed her eyes. She shook weakly her head and resumed, voice soft. "We never talked again about the Dalish. Truth be told, I am in good place to know my people are not perfect, far from it. And for what it is worth, I'm sincerely sorry for whatever they did to you." Her eyes met his. He considered her face a moment before answering earnestly.

"Thank you, Mahariel." A sparkle of sadness and melancholy jumped into his eyes as he added. "This is my fault. I should not expect the Dalish to be something they cannot be."

Mahariel looked at his expression with sincere concern. The distant look of someone lost in some long-forgotten memory. The man was so moved by what happened to Elvhenan. Every elf was, but most were angry, not sad…Not like that. Of course, very few had seen what he had in the Fade. It could not make that easy for him.

She suddenly turned crimson as his words of earlier hit home. Perfect just as you are? Why does he have to say things like that oh-so-naturally?! The fierce blush caught his attention, making him get out of his contemplation. She cleared her throat, decided to pretend like the blush did not exist and asked, softly.

"Tell me the story of a spirit you encountered."

He smiled slightly, appreciative of what she was trying to do. Of course, a story could not make him forget what he did, but she could not know that. He was going to answer when a knock resounded. Mahariel bit her bottom lip and looked at him apologetically before she cleared her throat and declared with a louder voice.

"Come in."

Leliana, Josephine and Vivienne began their speeches before they reached mid-stairs.

"Inquisitor, Sorry to barge in but we really need – "Josie interrupted herself at the sight of the second elf. She put a polite smile on her face and nodded her greetings. "Solas, happy to see you managed to see her. Is the Anchor stable? Do you need us to come back later?"

Vivienne muttered a disapproval sigh and Leliana's eyes laughed silently. With eyes and ears everywhere, especially in Skyhold, the spymaster always knew better. Everyone had learnt to expect her to be aware of their every word – and it was likely the case. And her soundproofing must have appeared…Suspicious. Well, she was not fond of the teasing but she definitely preferred that to what she could have heard, considering where the discussion was heading at some point. Hopefully a good part of her job was to keep her mouth shut. And so was the job of her agents. Solas nodded back in greeting and stood up.

"No need, Lady Ambassador. The Anchor is stable and there is no concern to have. I was about to leave." Were you now? Mahariel suppressed a raised eyebrow of disbelief. He headed to the stairs. He turned back before going downstairs and greeted the ladies. "Spymaster, Ambassador." he paused imperceptibly and his tone became slightly sharper. "Grand Enchantress." He spun to Mahariel with a small smile. "Inquisitor." This time she did raise an eyebrow. I thought I made myself clear on this.

"Mage." He smirked and went back on his last word.

"Dareth shiral, Mahariel." Here we go! Better this way, isn't it? She nodded and smiled back.

"Dareth shiral, Solas. Felel?" Later? He gave a smile and nod as he finally took his leave.

She decided to simply ignore the hardly hidden rolling eyes of Vivienne. She looked at the three of them. Well, jumping across the balcony was still an option…

Dirthamen ar halani - Dirthamen, help me