Solas sat in his rotunda drumming his fingers against his desk. The soft ambience of the library a level up was keeping him somewhat in reality. His other hand scribbled circles into his journal where notes of the ocularum shards should be written. Instead his mind wandered back and forth like a caged lion. Is she alright, it's been two days without a single word from her. The Iron Bull hasn't written anything in his reports to the Spymaster of her besides continued studies he isn't allowed to see. Has he betrayed his friend? Has he kept her silent and done something to her.
His hand dropped the plume in his hand and moved to the earthen beaded band. He sighed and scooted his chair from his desk and stood up.
"Something on your mind, Chuckles?"
Solas turned to spot the cheeky dwarf, leaning against the doorway to the main hall.
He let out an exasperated sigh and finally nod, "Admittedly, yes. A lot has been on my mind."
"Is it about Birdy?" Varric guessed and got his answer when Solas rubbed his hand over his scalp, "Yeah, I get it. I can only trust an Orlesian as far as I can throw one. That's not far, mind you."
Solas gave a half hearted chuckle and leaned against his desk, "I haven't heard any news of her assessments at the University. And.. and it's been two days since I have received any note from her. Its…" he sighed exasperatedly.
"Unnerving? Daunting? You feel like you can't continue on with your work unless you are certain that she is alright." Varric suggested with reminiscence.
Solas caught a glint of something in the dwarf's eyes and finally agreed.
"Yeah, Aveline used to come to me with that same look on her face. She would worry about Hawke all the time, like a mother bear after her cub. She won't admit it. And she'll probably hurt me if I said anything, but Hawke was one of the few things she had left from Ferelden after the Fifth Blight." Varric had a distant look in his eyes as he continued on, "She would always find me asking what we've been up to. With her position at the Guard she couldn't follow Hawke around as often, but she still fretted."
Solas sighed softly and sat back down in his chair, "I should have been sent out with her," he mumbled to himself, "That man is…"
Varric stepped into the rotunda and leaned against Solas's desk now, "A clod?" he managed with a sly grin.
Solas returned the grin with a smirk, "I was going to say ignorant, but-"
"Are you two speaking about our dear brutish Inquisitor?" Dorian voice was heard from above, "I just received something from our local Grand Enchanter in regards of our feathered friend."
Solas was quick to get out of his chair and hurry to the stairs. Varric following after.
In fancy script the Iron Lady wrote of the end of the harpy's assessments. They had done many tests and when it was returned it was fast asleep, a few feathers pulled, some blood drawn, one talon and one claw clipped. The Iron Bull had taken the harpy back to their lodging in Val Royeaux, even though she had insisted on letting it stay the stables. They are scheduled to return to Skyhold in two days time.
"Blood drawn?" Varric asked.
"Perhaps they think harpy blood has some special quality?" Dorian shrugged, but then noticed a very angry Solas.
"She is not some special ingredient for a potion. She is person." Solas spoke through gritted teeth before turning on his heels and returning down to his desk.
Varric and Dorian watched before turning towards each other, "Well. Someone is not happy."
They had asked questions. Not of my people but of what I was. I had wings. I could fly. I had teeth. I could shred. I had talons. I could pierce. But then there were other questions. How did I come to this world? A mother. Can I dream? I do. Do I have magical abilities? I do not know.
A man in long robes came to her then, with a dagger. I did not resist the piercing of my arm. I did not resist the plucking of my flight feathers, or the trimming of my talons and claws. I was patient.
"What are you?" one asked finally as they were ready to leave.
I looked at the man. He was not masked. His eyes were genuine, gentle.
"Pulumin." I had whispered. Only he had heard me.
A bit of a slow chapter, sorry. I wanted to finish this on my birthday, sort of a present to myself, but I missed it. Anyway, thank you all for reading and thank you to RPGWarrior4824 and HeavenlyCondemned for the reviews. Stay beautiful.
I have a sort of a sneak peak of what you might find in the Tumblr ask blog I was thinking of making. If anyone is interested. I will gladly provide a link of the blog either on my profile or in the next chapter. Enjoy.
'We are not the first to see our Mother.
We are not the first to feel her warm caressing breath or her loving soft tears.
We are not the first to feel her treachery. Her jolts of anger and of distress.
We are not the first to feel our Mother tremble and quake in misery and stand among the aftermath of her tantrums.
We are on the first to stand with her and we will not be the last, but in our time with Her, we will strive to care for Her and Her many children, the She has done for us for many ages.'
From The Pulumin Oral Teachings: A Study, By Unknown
"Pace acus."
"Pa-say ah-cause" Solas repeated. His over pronunciations making his feathered friends ear twitch slightly.
"No. Pa-che ah-coos" she corrected leaning closer to demonstrate the mouth movement.
"Ah," Solas claimed and cleared his throat making another attempt, "Pace acus. What does it mean, falon?"
"It means many things. To some it means happiness, to others means order. To you it may mean something else, but to be accurate pace is what you will peace. Acus can translate to even or balanced."
"Peace and Balance." Solas repeated, memorizing the meanings of this new vocabulary.
"It is what the Mother teaches us, amec. She is not always happy and with warm sunshine. Some days she may be sad with raining tears. But there is always pace in the end, and after all is over Mother is acus, she is balanced." As she spoke the harpy drew into the dirt. Symbols of a sun. Then one that looked like rain cloud.
"The Mother, is that your people's god?" Solas wondered. A version of their Maker or Creators.
"God?" The harpy's feather crest rose at the word.
"High power? Your maker or creator?"
"Mothers and fathers create us." the harpy's head tilted to the side.
"Then who is Mother?"
Her eyes brightened and she stood tall her wings spreading as she took in the atmosphere of her created fadescape. A replica of her home in the Emerald Forest. Every blade of grass, drop from the waterfall, and every little creature was alive in her dream.
"Mother is the air. She is the sun. She is water and the grass. Mother is all that surrounds us and give us life. Matre Mandas." In that moment of her explanation she glowed in the sun's rays. The most comfortable and most belonging she's felt since being taken in. This world was her home far longer than it was theirs to conquer and pillage.
"Mother nature."