"When so many are lonely as seem to be lonely, it would be inexcusably selfish to be lonely alone."
Camino Real ~ Tennessee Williams
Skyhold's main hall was once again the stage for a boisterous and lively affair in full swing. He avoided the entrance and guided Cole, who trudged closely behind, through what felt to him like an obscene and unnecessary number of steps until they were able to cross into the library tower adjacent to the hall. He hoped Solas would still be there despite the hour. He peered cautiously past the doorway, noticing all the lit candles. He caught a glimpse of the lean, wiry frame hunched over a heavy tome on a table and breathed a sigh of relief.
"I'm surprised you aren't out there mingling," Varric taunted him, pulling Cole inside.
Solas' greyish almond-shaped eyes examined them, his brows furrowing only slightly.
"It has been a trying evening," he told them. "I've been interrupted by errant guests trying to get their bearings." He indicated several used goblets littering the end of the table. "They seem to be under the impression I am part of the serving staff," he said crossly.
"You could always go upstairs to the library to do whatever you do," Varric surveyed the desolate room, taking in the ladders, buckets, cloths, and scaffolds stashed away for the evening.
"I would not get anything done with Dorian hovering about and asking questions," Solas complained.
They remained silent for a few moments, half expecting the impertinent mage to call down to them with an ominous, "I heard that, you know."
"Here." Varric led Cole to the chair opposite Solas.
"What is the matter?" he asked, peering at both of them.
"He's not doing very well," Varric explained. "I thought maybe you could make sure he wasn't becoming—"
"Becoming a demon?" Solas interrupted, the twinge of irritation in his tone growing stronger. "That is always the main concern, isn't it? I am convinced the Chantry is responsible for most of the abomination incidents in Thedas. According to them, it's the only thing mages know how to do. It has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. You don't hear of such things happening— at least not at such alarming numbers— among apostates, among those who are beyond the Chantry's reach."
"I'm a dwarf; magic isn't my thing. I'm here for him," he pointed at Cole. "And I couldn't give a rat's ass over this Chantry bullshit. But I've seen my share of demons and I would rather the Kid not be cut down," he replied testily. "Will you talk to him?"
It took Solas a moment to realize that the question was directed at Cole, not him.
"I'll leave you two to it," Varric replied. "I'm getting a drink. You care for one?" he turned the knob on the door leading to the main hall.
Solas pulled his chair over to face Cole.
"Look at me..." Varric heard him intone in the background.
He scanned the hall cautiously for any signs of Cassandra before joining the reception.
I doubt the Seeker would be among the professional schmoozers here.
Further inspection revealed Josephine engaged in a delicate mediation between two very drunken and increasingly belligerent representatives vying for turns to sit on the Inquisitor's throne.
He chuckled.
I don't envy you, Ruffles. I almost prefer the Deep Roads over this crap any day. At least Darkspawn will try to do you in quickly.
His eyes landed upon a freshly replenished platter of cheese and a tray filled with goblets of red wine.
Well, maybe I am exaggerating, he admitted, wandering over.
Between sips of wine and bites of sharp Fereldan cheese, he spotted an unexpected guest.
Evelyn?
She stood with her back up against the wall, smiling tensely at an animated group that clamoring for her attention. He sniggered at the sight and brushed his hands together slowly, plotting his approach. He jaunted over, adopting a purposeful gait and serious tone.
"Inquisitor, important message for you. A moment, when you have a chance," he interrupted, punctuating his official impersonation with a bow.
"Of course!" she acknowledged, with visible relief. "Please excuse me," she apologized to her deflated audience, following Varric towards the door. "It's been a pleasure."
"Fancy finding you here," he said, as they moved away from the crowd.
They dispensed with the usual complaints about such events; that they thought of them as forms of torture went without saying.
"You have no idea," she huffed. "I had to sell my soul to convince Josephine to help with that amulet. She is going to call in a personal favor from a contact of hers. This is the least I can do to thank her. Until this thing is fully healed," she indicated her torso, "I am stuck regaling guests at all these functions."
"Speaking of amulet...I had to bring Cole over to Solas."
"What is the matter?"
"Cole is a mess. If I didn't know he was a spirit, I'd swear he was going through a rough puberty."
"You joke, but I don't like to think of him in distress or peril."
"I don't like to see him like this either," he replied guiltily.
"Is he there right now?"
"Right ahead." He flung the door open for her.