To Build a Home
The next few weeks were very busy. Not even when they had marched on the Breach had so many people been moving around, from this thing to the next; and Numina was not accustomed to so many people working together on a single task: to rebuild Skyhold. And their efforts were not something that went unnoticed. Day by day, there was always something that had been completed, whether it was fixing one of the many holes in the roof, clearing out an area for some predetermined purpose, or building up the fortifications. The once ominous and forlorn fortress was now filled with life that worked to repair what time had withered down. This was the Inquisition's new home. It was Numina new home, something she was going to have to get used to.
And although there was much to do, Numina found that she was not able to do anything to help with the restoration. She had the ability, she was not allowed, however. Whenever she tried to assist in some task requiring strength or labor, a soldier, some member of the Inquisition, or an advisor would come over and insist that either they or some other person would be able to help; that she didn't need to wear herself out by helping. It was infuriating for Numina. With everyone stopping her every time she showed some inclination of pitching in, she had nothing really to do. The lack of purpose or distraction was driving her insane with boredom.
It was because she needed something to do that she sought Solas out. After a several minutes of looking, she was finally informed that he and Dorian were cataloguing the library and stocking the shelves with books the Inquisition had acquired or had been given as gifts. It was a very dull task, one she would not normally consider doing, but she enjoyed spending time with Solas, and perhaps he could make the time pass quicker for her. As she made her way to the library, she wondered how Solas had managed to rope Dorian into helping.
"Ah! If it isn't the mighty Inquisitor, vanquisher of evil!" Dorian exclaimed as Numina walked in. "Have you come to save us at last from the choking hands of boredom?"
Numina raised an eyebrow at Solas who stood near by; he offered her a faint smile before returning to the books he was trying to organize on the shelf. "I'm sure that if you asked Cullen, he would love to give you something to do that is much more interesting."
"Have I told you how much I love the mundane task of putting books on shelves?" Dorian asked with a smirk, quickly changing his tune.
Solas walked over to a stack of books piled beside Numina. "Is there something we can help you with, Inquisitor?"
"Actually yes. You can let me help you...shelve books."
Dorian burst out laughing. "Why on earth would you want to help us?"
"It's at least something to do," Numina sighed. "Everyone else insists that labor is above 'Inquisitor Lavellan, the Herald of Andraste.'" She threw her hands in the air in exasperation as she openly mocked her titles.
"We would welcome your help," Solas said, speaking more to the bookshelf than Numina.
She grabbed a stack of books and went to work, standing between both Dorian and Solas. "I can go up against demons and a hole in the sky, but Maker forbid I aid in restoring Skyhold," she grumbled, locating the proper place for one of the books. "I wasn't nearly as bored when I went up against Corypheus."
Dorian placed another book on the shelf before shaking his head. "It is a rather brilliant story though, isn't it?" He asked snarkily, a smirk glued to his face. "One moment you're trying to restore order in a world gone mad- that should be enough for anyone to handle, yes- then, out of nowhere, an Archdemon appears and kicks you in the head!" His voice was laden with witty sarcasm. "'What? You thought this would be easy!?' 'No, I was just hoping you wouldn't crush our village like an anthill.' 'Sorry about that. Archdemons like to crush, you know. Can't be helped.' And now, because you are far too delicate, you must help the evil, yet dashing, Tevinter mage and the suspicious looking elven apostate shelve books because labor intensive work doesn't suit you." Numina didn't say anything, tactfully hiding her smile, she could tell Solas was doing the same as well. "Am I speaking to quickly for you?"
Numina burst out laughing having to hold on to the shelves she was working on, his humorous commentary drawing her mirth forward. "Oh, no," she chuckled. "I was just enjoying the show."
"So you were entertained by my wit and charm? I have plenty of both," he teased.
"How interesting to find someone so aware of his strengths," Solas added sarcastically.
"I'm a man of many talents," Dorian joked back. "What can I say?"
"A pity that properly cataloging books isn't one of them," Solas replied quickly.
"I'm the son of a Magister, my friend, meaning that menial tasks were beneath me," Dorian said in slightly sour tone, though he still kept his humorous inflection.
"That is what slaves are for, correct?" It was not the first time that Numina heard that harsh tone from Solas. It was part snark, part criticizing, and part accusation that equaled out to cruel insults masked behind polite manners. He often used it when speaking to Vivienne, though in that case, Numina usually agreed with it. Vivienne was abhorantly stuck up, carrying the belief that since she was a circle mage, she was inherently better than any other kind of mage.
She slammed a book abruptly on the shelf, turning her head towards Solas. Numina hadn't ever looked at him with anything other than kindness, but at that moment she glared at him with annoyance. "That was uncalled for," she snapped at him disapprovingly.
Though he was able to keep it hidden behind his polite mask, Numina's sudden harshness surprised him and, though it shouldn't have, made him feel guilty about the quipe he had made. Numina's effect on him had Solas agreeing with what she said. The comment was uncalled for.
The three of them worked in an awkward silence that you could nearly taste bitterly on your tongue. Numina had never show disapproval to any of her companions even if they were being rude to her. That she was so offended by Solas' comment was unexpected. Numina showed nothing but kindness to others, which is why both Solas and Dorian expected her to side with Solas and his glib insult. And truthfully, Numina did view slavery in the same light as Solas, disagreeing with the Qun much in the same way as well. However, there was something she could not stand even more: blaming an individual for something an entire culture did and holding onto grudges after centuries. It was the reason why, not even out of anger, she refused to use the word "shemlen" amongst humans. The only time she would use that insultive title was amongst her clan, and even then, there was no animosity behind the word, just casual referral. It was also why she refused to treat anyone with any kind of bias simply because of what they were or where they were from. Everyone deserved open kindness until they did not.
For a while the only sound you could here was the soft thump of heavy books being placed on shelves, the soft shuffling of feet as they went to replenish their arms with more from the piles that were towering slightly less than before, and the occasional sneeze from Dorian and Numina when they were shelving a particularly dusty tome. Finally, it was Dorian that broke the silence.
"You're what they call a Dalish elf, correct?"
"I am indeed," Numina answered lackluster, not turning from her work.
"There were never any Dalish clans in Tevinter, for obvious reasons," he continued. "Perhaps you wouldn't mind indulging in my curiosity?"
To her left, Numina heard Solas huff softly in disgust and amusement. What is his problem? She thought, but quickly cast the question aside. "I assure you, the idea of the Dalish is much more interesting and romantic than the reality of it."
"None the less, I would like hearing about them. If you don't mind."
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the cynical amusement that Solas wore on his face. He clearly found something funny. "What would you like to know?"
"The only thing I do know is that the Dalish are groups of nomadic elves that live in clans and are hostile towards humans, especially Tevinter humans." Dorian smiled at her. "You can see my confusion since you are the most kind and polite person I have ever met, humans included, and you don't want to gouge my eyes out like everyone else."
"I did when you got us stranded in time," Numina teased, a smirk playing on her lips.
"When I got us stranded in time?" Dorian asked incredulously with a grin. "My dear, if anyone got us stranded, it was you. You were the target, after all."
Numina smiled. "Mhm, sure I was," she hummed in amusement.
"So tell me," Dorian said, getting back on topic, "how would you describe the Dalish?"
Without hesitating, "Fools that are locked in a nostalgia about a past they cannot remember."
Dorian seemed a little taken aback by the her blunt answer. "Do you see nothing of merit for you kin or heritage?"
"Do you for Tevinter?" It was not an insult the way she said it.
"Yes." It was his turn to reply without hesitation. "Despite our many flaws, Tevinter cares deeply, about everything. We cherish our history and there is no other place so alit with passion. If I did not think Tevinter was worth anything, I would not miss it so much."
Numina thought on what Dorian had said. She was always speaking so harshly about the Dalish lifestyle as a whole, and only ever spoke of it as such. Yet, when she was ever thinking of the Dalish, she would think only of her clan, and that is what she missed. "You will never find different families so close as you would in a Dalish clan," she said reminiscently. "The bloodlines may be different, but the clan, the community, it is truly one large family. We care fiercely for one another. And you will never find any other people that are so intune with the world outside of civilization, so connected to nature." She stopped for a moment. "And at least we are trying to remember what was lost. We may get it wrong, not understand it correctly, or not recover it at all, but at least we are trying to recover a history that is worth remembering."
Dorian had a playfully sinister smirk plastered on his face, "And I thought you said the Dalish weren't romantic. I half expected you to burst into song."
"Shut up," Numina responded with a smile, tossing the book she held in her hands at him jokingly.
"Now that was uncalled for," he continued playfully, causing Numina to roll your eyes. Dorian chuckled before handing the book back to Numina, allowing her to place it on the proper shelf.
It was then that an Inquisition soldier entered the library. When he saw that Numina was there as well, the soldier dropped into a deep bow, "Herald of Andraste," he addressed her respectfully. "Sister Nightingale requests an audience with Master Pavus."
"I wonder… do you have orders to knock me upside the head if I refuse?" he asked with a smirk.
"We are not at liberty to fully disclose the tasks that are assigned to us," the soldier replied dryly.
"That would be a yes," Numina answered with a smile.
Dorian sighed, "And here I was just starting to enjoy myself," he joked, before giving an overly embellished bow, taking his leave with the Inquisition soldier guiding him to Leliana.
Numina and Solas were the only two left in the library now, and normally she would have enjoyed that, but Solas seemed to be in a sour mood for some reason. Things felt different between them now, and she had no idea why. It pained her heart thinking that she had done something wrong, something to make him act this way. Numina wanted nothing more than to please him, to find the source of the problem and correct it; but she worried that by questioning him she would only make it worse. Instead she continued to shelve books to their proper places by origin, genre, and alphabetically. It was slow work for the library was rather large, but Solas and Numina kept up a decent pace, reducing the many stacks of books at a steady rate.
There was one book Numina was working on that needed to go on the top shelf. It had been mixed improperly amongst a stack of Chantry texts and belonged over by where Solas was working. As she approached, she saw him shift away slightly, as if he did not want to be near her. Numina felt a small pang of sorrow, but pushed it to the side. Grabbing a chair from one of the nearby tables, she placed it in front of the shelves, quietly lamenting the fact that she was so small. The book belonged on the highest shelf, and she needed not only to stand on the chair, but also brace herself against the back of it, leaning forward so she could reach.
She must have been leaning further forward than she thought, because at that moment, the chair beneath her shifted. Numina let out a startled gasp as it slid out from underneath her. Reaching out to catch herself on something, she knocked down a few books, yet was unable to save herself from the small fall; it was Solas who stepped in front of her, allowing her to crash into his arms that saved her from the bite of the library's stone floor.
Solas held her tightly in his strong arms, keeping her upright as Numina regained her footing. A few books glanced off his shoulder as they fell, clattering onto the floor. Lightly, Numina pulled herself from his grasp, hands pushing off his chest tenderly. She did not meet him in the eye, fearing what she might see there.
"I am so very sorry Solas," she said quickly. "I did not mean to." With the same nervous rush, Numina swiftly bent down to retrieve the books that had fallen from their perch.
Solas followed her with slow subtle movements, helping her pick the tomes up, though he did not say anything. Silently they returned the fallen books back to their places. Solas doing so with slow and calculated movements; Numina with quick jarring movements out of nervousness, hoping that she hadn't displeased him further.
The last book on her hand was the one that had started the mess in the first place. Gracefully she turned to Solas, her head slightly bowed. "Perhaps you can reach it better than I can," she said in a musical whisper.
Her eyes were finally allowed to meet his, and in them Solas saw innocence and worry. A small pang of sorrow twisted his heart and flashed in his eyes. He had not meant to hurt her with his words or actions. But over the past few weeks, he had come to realize that how close they had become would end in tragedy. Solas had hoped to find a way to distance himself from her, and in doing so he had become bitter and irritable. The jab at Dorian had been a consequence, as had been the mocking thoughts he had as Numina spoke of the Dalish, coloring her in the same light he did the Dalish as a whole. Solas had not meant to hurt her, but the bitterness had come from what his fate, what his path made him do to accomplish his goals.
Solas tried to look apologetically as he accepted the book. His fingers lightly brushed against hers, but she did not let go of the book. Her intense gaze, eyes of barren ice and luscious life, held his own. "Is there something wrong, Solas?" she asked quietly.
There was a pain in his chest deeper than the one he had felt before. Her shoulders lowered, gaze cast downwards, and her body slightly tense, it was not hard for Solas to read her true question: "Did I do something wrong?" Numina thought it was her fault for the sudden change in the way he was acting. Guilt strangled him softly. Neither of them let go of the book.
"No," Solas finally answered. "I apologize. I must appear as though I'm acting strangely. I am not used to being amongst so many people," he lied. "It's affecting the way I am treating those around me."
Numina frowned slightly, a part of her sensing the lie, but she did not pursue it. "Would you like me to leave you?" she asked.
"That is the last thing I would want," he said, speaking more truthfully than he usually did. No. Don't do it. It will end in disaster, a small part of him yelled, but it was a voice that was stifled. Solas tenderly trailed his fingers over hers, relishing the feel of Numina's soft skin against his fingertips. A faint smile touched his lips when he saw her cheeks turning a subtle rose colored pink, but she did not pull her hand away. "I enjoy your company, Numina." Solas added, using her name for increased intimacy. Even though she had all but given him leave to use her name, it was still something he considered precious and unique, something to use occasionally to add passion or emotion.
At the sound of her name, Numina looked up at him, her eyes shining brightly. The corners of her lips were turned up in a small smile. "And I enjoy yours as well, Solas."
There was a clamor on the stairs that quickly drew their attention. Numina let go of the book retreating a step or two away from Solas while he quickly turned to the shelf, getting back to work as though nothing had happened.
Dorian sauntered in, smug smile on his face. He looked from Numina to Solas a few times before chuckling. "Did I interrupt something?" he asked coyly.
Numina, who had grabbed another armful of books, shrugged, "No."
"Now I know that's a lie," Dorian continued, his smile turning into a mischievous grin. "You two look like innocent puppies that tore up the furniture and hope that no one realizes it was you that made the mess."
"If anything we were cleaning up the mess you left us with," Numina replied lightly. "I must admit, I am surprised that you came back."
"I probably wouldn't have if Leliana hadn't told me to send for you after she was done threatening me," he said surprisingly unconcerned.
"She threatened you," Numina asked with a small amount of alarm.
"I'm a Tevinter mage fighting against Tevinter supremacists under the command of an ancient Tevinter Magister in a world that hates Tevinter," he answered with dry humor. "I would be concerned if I wasn't threatened from time to time." Numina shrugged, slightly. He does have a point, she conceded. "Anyway, Leliana wanted me to tell you that she and the other advisors will be waiting for you in the war room shortly. As well as Varric, who has something to share."
Numina nodded her understanding and turned to Solas, "Perhaps we can finish our conversation later?" she asked, a flirtatious smile given only to him.
Solas returned her smile, "I would not mind." His voice was soft and gentle, words caressing her softly like a stream would if you stood in the middle of it.
So as not to give Dorian any more ammunition against them, Solas forced his attention back to the task at hand, refusing to watch Numina leave even though he drastically desired to. He longed to follow her, momentarily forgetting that he should be distancing himself. He wished to keep her talking, to hear the music of her voice that was soothing and especially pleasing when she hummed his name as though it were a word in a melody. These were private thoughts that he would not share, and they were thoughts that led to him conceiving a brilliant plan. One that involved dreams.
~~.O.~~
It was a beautiful morning in Skyhold. The sun was shining bright, illuminating the grounds in a soft glow. People were carrying on with their tasks, going to and fro. Some would pause as they passed Numina, offering a small bow or nod of respect to the Inquisitor before carrying on. It was easy to find hope in this place, cast in a positive light, protected and sheltered from everything that had happened leading up to this moment.
Though she did not wish to push Solas, fearing that he may view her as an eager child, Numina sought him out in the rotunda he had claimed as his own, beautiful fiasco's painted on the walls. Her plan was to play innocent, saying that she merely wanted to talk about his journeys and such.
He was in his study as he always was unless he needed to retrieve a book from the library. Solas was leaning over his desk slightly, sifting through some of the many papers that were piled somewhat neatly about. When he heard her enter, a smile graced his lips as he turned to face her, eyes lighting up. "Inquisitor," he said in formal greeting.
Numina smiled. "Solas, I was wondering if you had some time to tell me more of yourself and your studies. I find it all very fascinating."
He chuckled softly, amused by something he knew and she did not. "You continue to surprise me. All right, let us talk...preferably somewhere more interesting than this." There was a knowing smile on his face as he lead her from the study.
The sunlight became suddenly blinding from outside. Numina's vision faded into a nothingness white. Solas had taken her by the hand and was leading her. Gravel crunched beneath her feet as she walked. Indistinct conversation flitted around her, a pleasant background noise. The breeze was chilly, influenced by the frozen tundra that surrounded Haven; it carried soft snowflakes with it that melted on her pale skin. Once Numina's vision returned, she saw that he was leading her towards the Chantry, past all the tents and building that had been converted to better serve the newly fledged Inquisition.
"Why here?" she asked curiously.
Solas let go of her hand once he saw that her eyesight had returned and carried on, "Haven is familiar. It will always be important to you." he answered, teasing at the truth she had not realized yet, his magic and manipulation of the Fade muffling the confusion she should have been feeling.
"This is where everything changed and where everything began," she mused agreeingly.
They continued towards the Chantry, walking through its doors and descending down the stairs into the holding chambers. Though it had been a while and she had not been fully lucid at the time, Numina recognized the cell they entered. It was the one she first woke up in. When she first found out about the mark on her hand. The place where everything in her world was uprooted.
"I sat beside you while you slept, studying the Anchor," he told her.
"I'm glad someone was watching over me," Numina said. I'm glad it was you, she wanted to add.
"You were a mystery." He turned and smiled. "You still are." The smiled faded faintly. "I ran every test I could imagine. Searched the Fade, yet found nothing. Cassandra suspected duplicity. She threatened to have me executed as an apostate if I didn't produce results."
"Cassandra's like that with everyone," she responded playfully.
Solas chuckled. "Yes," he agreed, before leading Numina out of the dreadful building and back into the snow covered village.
"You were never going to wake up. How could you? A mortal sent physically through the Fade?" Numina looked at him curiously. For the amount of time she had known him, Solas had never seemed bewildered by anything. He always had an answer or a possible explanation. "I was frustrated, frightened," his voice broke for a second. "The spirits I might have consulted had been driven away by the Breach." Numina was surprised for a second time by him. He had never been open with his emotions, always being level headed, the one she could rely on to have a clear mind. "Although I wished to help, I had no faith in Cassandra...or she in me. I was ready to flee."
"Yet you stayed," Numina all but hummed. Solas could hear the admiration in her voice, and he thought it misplaced.
He nodded. "I told myself: one more attempt to seal the rifts." He held out his hand towards the Breach that swirled angrily in the sky as if he were about to cast a spell. "I tried and failed," his hand dropping. "No ordinary magic would affect them. I watched the rifts expand and grow, resigned myself to flee, and then…"
Solas reached abruptly for Numina's left arm, the one that held the mark, yanking it towards the green, flowing glass in the sky. Her hand responded to the rift, and trendles from her hand linked her to the green mass. It was strange, not painful, but there was a sensation behind it she could not entirely describe. Almost like a sharing of energies. Solas still had ahold of her wrist, his fingers wrapped tightly around it, firmly, as if the stabilize her arm. Suddenly the energy was cut off, a pulse that destroyed the link and the rift that had hung in the air before them.
"It seems you hold the key to our salvation," he said, echoing the memory that they had relived. "You had sealed it with a gesture… and right then, I felt the whole world change."
"'Felt the whole world change?'" Numina echoed softly, taking few steps forward with grace that made it unnoticed by him.
"A figure of speech," Solas amended quickly.
But Numina would not let it go. All of his slips and words spoken between them had not been forgotten. "I'm aware of the metaphor," she teased softly. "I'm more interested in 'felt.'"
"You change everything," Solas said, his voice betraying uncertainty.
"Sweet talker," she hummed. It was then that Solas realized how closely she stood to him, her gracefully slender figure standing in his shadow. He thought to step bac,. Distance, he reminded himself, yet he did nothing.
There was only a moment of awkwardness, as Numina lowered her head, both of them trying hard not to look at the other. Her resolve had built itself up, though, as did her courage. Her left hand braced softly against his chest while her right suddenly, softly caressed his cheek, turning him to face her. Before either of them knew it, Numina's lips were pressed against his.
The kiss was tender and light, equal parts passionate and reserved out of uncertainty. Solas did not have time to react before Numina pulled away. He was not able to savour the taste of her lips against his. And as Numina turned to bring a proper distance between them, a mischievous smile warmed his expression as he shook his head lightly. You are not getting away that easily.
Solas grabbed Numina's arm and pulled her playfully against him, their bodies pressed against one another. His arms snaked around her waist, drawing her even closer to him. His lips crashed on to hers, soft passion turning into deepening desire. Numina was enveloped in his warmth, her hand on his shoulder and arm for balance as he dipped her romantically, his thigh running along the insides of her legs as he held her up, felt her up, chasing her with his fierce kisses. His tongue brushed fervently against her lips. She opened up to him, relishing his touch, lost in the heat and lust of the moment. They danced between their lips with kisses.
Solas pulled away for a moment, his eyes filled with desire. His resolve to distance himself finally crumbled as he shook his head at this beautiful woman he now held in his arms. Her eyes looked at him, a soft question amongst the adoration that thrived there with him standing before her. His next kiss was much more tender, their lips brushing softly. Numina melted into him once more, hoping that this moment wouldn't end.
Finally he pulled away from her, the air chilling Numina where his warmth had once been. "We shouldn't," he said, trying to convince himself more than her. "It isn't right. Not even here."
"What do you mean, 'even here?'" the question wasn't angry. It wasn't hurt by the sudden ending of the their passion. Though she wished they could have been that close for longer, she understood enough to not be upset.
A smile of teasing amusement spread on his lips. "Where do you think we are?"
The cloud that had muddle her thoughts was suddenly gone. Numina looked around at her surroundings with a new light. Solas could see realization dawn on her almost instantly. "This is the Fade," she mused, her words a beautiful and thoughtful whisper. She looked at him and smiled. "So you are the man of dreams?" she asked flirtatiously.
Solas chuckled, "Technically."
Numina hummed in amusement, stepping closer to him. For a second she thought he might retreat, having been the one to end their last kiss; but he stood where he was, watching her with adoration as she approached. She stood before him, nearly as close as they had been in the heat of their passion. Her fingers traced along the side of his cheek teasingly. "Then we should do this more often," she whispered provocatively, placing one more kiss on his lips.
Smooth and soft against his own lips, he welcomed her touch once more, closing his eyes to enjoy it thoroughly as he brought up his hands to run it through her locks of captured starlight. He breathed in her scent, wildflowers and trees, a forest wild, untamed, yet no less beautiful or alluring.
She was gone. His eyes opened, finding no trace of Numina except for the faint whisper of her teasing against his skin. Solas was no longer in Haven either. He found himself amongst towering trees, a wooded meadow of green and vibrant colors. Bird fluttered amongst the trees, singing love songs. Butterflies glided amongst the flowers.
Solas couldn't help but smile. Numina had distracted him with a kiss, shattering his focus and bringing his attention to her. And in that moment, she had moulded the dream, leaving him a mystical forest in place of the village. Minx, he thought, chuckling at her creativity. Not many could shape the Fade to something they wanted, even fewer could do so on such an accurate and believable scale, and even fewer still could do so, so quickly.
When the dream faded and they both awoke, lying in their bed, thinking back longingly to the dream; they wore smiles that remained on their faces for some time as the taste of one another lingered on their tongues. It had only been a dream, but the feeling of the experience crossed the boundary into reality easily.
~~.O.~~
Numina's thoughts were not her own for the rest of the day. She could not help it. Every time she was focusing on something, her mind would wander back to the dream. A smile would play upon her lips as she remember his warm touch and his passionate kiss. Numina wanted nothing more than to find him in the rotunda, but there were more pressing issues at hand. The Inquisition needed to prepare for travel to Crestwood. Scouts would be sent first, though they needed supplies which were in short stock at the moment. Though they had been replenished since arriving in Skyhold, stocking for exploration and expansion across Thedas was not planned for. For the moment, the concern had been building up Skyhold. It would be a week at most before they could follow Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall, to Crestwood.
Never in her wildest dreams did Numina think she would meet the famed Hawke. Even when Varric had introduced them it was a little hard to believe. But it was really her, Alexandria Hawke, the raven haired mage whose beauty and finesse were only matched by the insurmountable power she wielded as a mage. And yet when Numina met her, she saw none of that. If anything, she saw a reflection of herself: a woman who threw herself at dragons because she had to, because no one else would. She saw a woman who cared deeply for others, her lover Anders more than any. And she saw a woman who was infuriated that she had failed to kill Corypheus, an old enemy from a Warden Prison. But Hawke was still a woman, ordinary like most, yet a hero in actions and strength because of what fate had put her through.
But for right now, her "hero worshipping," as Varric called it, would have to wait. Vivienne was having a over embellished fit about one of Numina's companions: the ever mysterious Cole. Numina only had the opportunity to speak to Cole in a few instances since their arrival at Skyhold. Most of the time she did not remember to look for him, and she would not know where to begin. Such were his strange abilities.
Numina descended the stairs into the courtyard where Vivienne stood in a heated argument with Solas, Cassandra nearby, probably making sure that Vivienne did not lunge at Solas. Cole sat at the bottom of the stairs, cross-legged in the grass, rocking back and forth slightly. As she reached the last step, she looked at Cole and offered him a smile.
"She's afraid," he said ominously.
"This thing is not a stray puppy you can make into a pet. It has no business being here." Vivienne sneered politely.
"Time to go and moderate the argument," Numina sighed.
"Frustrating. Always turning to you. Your opinion. Your decision. But it is better that way," Cole said, not looking at her as he spoke.
"Wouldn't you say the same of an apostate?" Solas countered.
Vivienne frowned. That means yes. Numina had to stop herself from shaking her head. The enchanter's belief all who did not go to a circle are filthy, uncultured beasts was honestly starting to annoy Numina.
"Inquisitor," Cassandra greeted her. "I was wondering if Cole was perhaps a mage given his unusual abilities."
"He can cause people to forget him, or even fail entirely to notice him," Solas supplied. "These are not the abilities of a mage. It seems that Cole is a spirit."
"It is a demon," Vivienne hissed.
"If you prefer, although the truth is somewhat more complex," Solas replied snidely.
Numina had to hold back the urge to roll her eyes. "Not everything that's different from your view of 'normal' makes it a demon," she added. "Cole warned us about Corypheus at Haven. He saved a lot of lives."
"I believe I have a greater grasp of normal than someone who was raised in some secluded forest," Vivienne said with narrowed eyes. The veiled insult did not go unnoticed. "And what will its help cost? How many lives will this demon later claim?"
"In fact, his nature is not so easily defined," Solas said, refuting what Vivienne said of Cole.
Cassandra sighed, loudly. "Speak plainly, Solas. What are we dealing with?"
"Demons normally enter this world by possessing something. In their true form, the look bizarre, monstrous. Yet Cole looks like a young man."
"Is it possession?" Cassandra asked.
"No. He has possessed nothing and no one, and yet he appears human in all respects." Solas turned to Numina. "Cole is unique, Inquisitor. More than that, he wishes to help. I suggest you allow him to do so."
Vivienne glowered at Numina, and although spiting her was enjoyable, Numina wanted to speak with Cole to make her decision. "I should hear what Cole has to say." She turned to look back to look where Cole had been sitting in the grass. She could see the outline of where had been, smashed blades giving that much away, but Cole was no longer there. "Well, he was there," Numina said quietly.
"He does not tend to stay in one place for very long," Solas said, his voice giving away his slight amusement. "Too much to do, it seems."
There was movement in the corner of Numina's eye that caught her attention. His large hat was easy to spot. Cole stood amongst the people in the makeshift infirmary, though the people around took no notice of his presence. Numina gave the others a nod in dismissal before walking towards him.
"Haven. So many soldiers fought to protect the pilgrims so they could escape," he said quietly as Numina approached. He was staring intently at one of the soldiers that lay on the ground, a bloody mess. "Choking fear, can't think from the medicine, but the cuts wrack me with every heartbeat. Hot white pain, everything burns. I can't. I can't. I'm going to… I'm dying. I'm…" Cole's voice trailed off. "Dead."
"Your feeling their pain?" Numina asked in alarm. Not for herself or others, but out of concern for him. To feel their pain… She couldn't imagine it.
"You're worried. Don't be. I'm alright. This is what I am. Who I am." He looked at her, his pale eyes lost in bangs of golden hay. "It's louder this close, with so many of them."
"Why don't you go somewhere else?" she asked.
"It would be quieter, but here is where I can help." With that he moved towards a different soldier that lay amongst the injured. "Every breath slower, like lying in a warm bath. Sliding away. Smell of my daughter's hair when I kiss her goodnight," his was voice a near whisper. "Gone."
Numina could not help but feel sorrow. These were people fighting for her, and dying for her. Now she knew what they had thought of in their last moments. She felt guilty for leading them inadvertently to their deaths.
"Do not feel sad," he told her. "They do not blame you. You shouldn't blame you." Before Numina could reply he looked away. "Cracked brown pain, dry, scraping. Thirsty." He walked over and brought a woman water. "Here."
"Thank you," she wheezed hoarsely.
Cole looked back at Numina. "It's alright. She won't remember me."
"You're using your powers as a spirit to help people," Numina commented.
"Yes," he rose to his feet. "I used to think I was a ghost. I didn't know. I made mistakes… but I made friends too." He looked down. "Then a templar proved I wasn't real. I lost my friends. I lost everything." Cole turned to her. "I learned how to be more like what I am. It made me different, but stronger. I can feel more. I can help."
"If you would like to, we could use your help, Cole."
"Yes, helping. I help the hurt, the helpless. There's someone…" his voice trailed off and he turned to walk to a different soldier. "It hurts, it hurts, it hurts, someone make it stop hurting. Maker please…" Cole placed a hand on the hilt of the dagger strapped to his belt. "The healers have done all they can. It will take hours for him to die. Every moment will be agony. He wants mercy. Help."
Numina felt sorrow, but at the same time, she knew she would ask for no less if she were in such a position. "Alright. Help him."
It was quick and painless."I want to stay," Cole said.
Numina nodded. "Stay," she told him. His features relaxed from their natural pained expression for a moment as if he were about to smile, and then Cole was gone.
With a sigh of relief that the situation wasn't nearly as bad as Vivienne made it out to be, Numina turned on her heel and walked all the way back into the main hall of Skyhold, passing Varric as she entered the rotunda. Every time she entered, the frescos painted on the wall would momentarily distract her. She loved the intricate detail of the artwork.
Solas was at his desk, reading some ancient tome he had found or brought with him. His eyes following the words as he turned the page. Upon hearing her enter, Solas offered her a smile, closing the book shut and setting it on his desk. "I take it you were able to come to a decision in regards to Cole?" he asked.
"Yes. He wants to stay and help, and I see no harm in that," Numina answered.
"I am glad. Though I am sure you won no favors with Vivienne."
"She does not seem to be trying to win any favors with me," Numina said a bit coldly. "I see no point in trying to do so for. Not that I allowed Cole to stay simply to spite her."
"I see. I am sorry, by the way, for that comment she made earlier," Solas said earnestly, searching in her eyes to see if there was any hurt or bitterness because of Madame de Fer's insult. "It seems that those who are isolated have more wisdom than those raised in a supposed place of knowledge."
"Thank you, Solas, but you don't need to worry. I have had far better insults thrown my way." A small smile brightened her expression.
Solas gave her a smile of his own, subtle yet warm, admiring her for refusing to place value in something that was false. "Did you sleep well last night?" he asked, a flirtatious tone lacing his words.
Numina's smile grew, and her cheeks had a whisper of pink tinging them. "When I looking to speak to you, I hadn't realized I was doing so in the Fade," she admitted in a singsong way. "I also didn't realize we would be doing it in the Fade."
Solas' bright chuckle echoed softly against the walls of the rotunda, dancing around the room. "I apologize. The kiss was impulsive and ill considered. And I should not have encouraged it."
At those words, Numina's heart would have sank, but something in his voice gave away that he was trying to convince himself of such things, that he did not fully mean it. "You say that now," she said, dropping her voice into a lower more alluring melody as she stepped closer to him, "but you were the one that started with tongue."
"I did no such thing," he replied, sounding slightly appalled at the idea.
"Oh!" Numina teased, stopping directly in front of him. She could see the red on his cheeks. "Does it not count if it's in the Fade? I was unaware of that rule."
Solas fidgeted under her icy green gaze, finally looking away from her tempting expression. "It has been a long time," he said quickly, nearly blurting it out as he stumbled over the words. "And things have always been easier for me in the Fade." He looked back into her eyes, face apologetic and eyes that said he was lost. "I am not certain this is the best idea. It could lead to trouble."
He sounds afraid, Numina noticed, and in that moment, she understood why. Two people working within an organization, an army, that sought to overthrow a creature who aspired to becoming a god growing close to one another, maybe even falling in love? The story was already on the verge of being a tragedy, being together would make it that much easier for it to be so. But I… she what? Numina did not know how she felt about Solas. I care for him a great deal… and when I'm with him, I have more hope. I feel like I'm home and less alone in the world.
"I'm willing to take that chance," she said, placing her hand lightly on his chest. "If you are."
Solas reached up, and for a moment Numina worried that he would remove her hand. Instead he enveloped it in his own, squeezing her hand lightly in his gentle grasp. "I...may be…yes" he said in a hesitating whisper. "If I could have a little time to think…"
Numina was the one to pull away from him gently, taking back her hand, oblivious to the disappointment that flashed through Solas' eyes. "Take all the time you need," she hummed pleasantly.
"Thank you," he breathed. "I am not often thrown by things that happen in dreams."
"Did you enjoy what you saw when you opened her eyes?" she asked with a playful smirk.
He chuckled again, lighter this time. "I have to admit, that was a first for me. I have never had someone change the nature of the dream without being aware of it."
"You were distracted," she said with a wink.
"Indeed I was." There was laughter in his voice that was pleasant to her ears. "I am curious how you managed to create a landscape so completely in such little time, though."
"I will reveal my tricks, if you reveal yours, Solas." Numina replied her smirk still playing on her expression. "Like how I thought walking through Haven was normal."
Solas gave her a handsome smile. "Very well," he said, motioning for her to sit with him on the couch.
This may have be a terrible idea, indeed, but there was no doubt in Solas' mind that he would enjoy every second of it.
~~.O.~~
"Inquisitor," Josephine called out as she approached the group. "If I could have a quick moment of your time?"
Numina was saddling her horse along with the others she had chosen to accompany her to Crestwood. Solas was standing to her left and Cole was receiving help from the Iron Bull in front of her. The spirit really had no idea what to do with the beast, trying to talk the saddle into getting on the horse.
"Of course," Numina said, turning from her work. "What can I help you with?"
"We received word from your clan, Keeper Maleenain to be exact."
That grabbed Numina's full attention. "Are they alright?" she asked, worry speeding her words.
"Yes," Josephine reassured her. "They were inquiring about you. I was wondering if we should ask for their aid or offer an alliance of some sort."
Her thoughts quickly turned to the darker side of her clan's life. While she was well loved by some of her clansmen, there were others that were suspicious and despised her. Some trusted her and enjoyed having her around, while others whispered behind her back and believed she did not belong. Esholen was one of the malevolent forces in the clan that stood against others, and her position as First had allowed her to conscript others to her view of Numina.
"That is not wise," Numina said hesitantly. Josephine rose an eyebrow, clearly expecting an explanation. "I...I do not think that aligning themselves with the Inquisition would be safe. They must already be in danger because they are the Dalish clan that the Herald of Andraste came from. They would become a bigger target if they allied with us."
"I see…" Josephine said. Numina couldn't tell if that wasn't the answer she was hoping for or that she sensed there was something more to Numina's hesitation to ask her clan for aid. Perhaps it was both. "Is there anything you would like me to add to the response? A personal touch?"
"Add that I send my regards to Keeper Maleenain...and Arleth."
"Very well, Inquisitor. I hope you have a safe journey."
With a slight bow, Josephine withdrew; and Numina finished saddling her horse and cinching the saddlebags to it. Iron Bull had finished helping Cole with his own horse, and the young boy now sat atop the animal, looking awkward and petrified. It did not stop him from prodding in the minds of others.
"Why didn't you tell her the truth?" He asked innocently and confused.
Numina could feel the Solas and Iron Bull turn their gaze to her. "I did tell her the truth," she said, hauling herself on top of her own mount.
"Why are you lying?" Cole persisted.
"I'm not."
"Yes you are."
Iron Bull decided to interrupt this near childish argument. "Hey, kid, if there's one thing you should know, it's this: if a woman doesn't want to give something up, she won't. No matter what."
"That's not entirely true," Numina commented calmly, watching as Solas brought his horse to stand beside hers. She could feel his pale storms boring into her.
"Oh?" Bull teased. "If that's the case, then why is Cole so convinced that you didn't tell Josephine the truth."
Numina hesitated. "Alright," she conceded, "you may have a point."
Bull chuckled in amusement at her as he dragged himself on top of his horse. For a moment Numina was slightly afraid he might squish the poor animal. Noticing all their eyes on him now, "I bet you all were thinking the horse's legs was going to give out from underneath me."
"You do look really heavy," Cole said in a childish voice, making both Numina and Solas laugh quietly to themselves.
Bull's faint grumbling bringing a small smile to Numina's face, she spurred her horse forward through Skyhold's gate. Once the animal's hooves were smacking loudly on the stone, she spurred it into a gallop, leading the way to Crestwood, thankful that they no longer had to cover such great distances by foot anymore.
The countryside seemed to fly by, her eyes not being able to catch all the detail of it as it blurred slightly together. Birds and small critters scattered at the sound of the thundering hooves, crying out in alarm. The wind whipped around Numina, tugging her hair into a long flowing mass of captured moonlight, teasing knots into it as flew it this way and that. Numina loved the feeling of too much air as it filled her lungs quicker than she needed it to. At first her eyes watered at the rush of the wind, but they quickly became used to it. After a while, Numina slowed her horse down to a much less exhausting speed, allowing them to travel quickly without killing the poor things
Horses cannot go on forever, though, and after a few hours, they group dismounted and led their mounts to give them a break from the strain of carrying riders and supplies. The group carried on in silence a while, each to their own thoughts. Except for maybe Cole, no doubt he was reading the other's thoughts rather than having any of his own.
"Voices behind my back, whispering hating. Narrowed eyes, hateful slits, peering and judging what they refuse to understand. Harsh words digging into my skin. 'You don't belong here,' their faces scream. Knowing, taunting, malicious smirk, enjoying my pain. First and hateful. A Keeper of disappointment. 'Why can't they understand? Why can't they accept something different?' Blindly the hiss and whisper, always quiet enough for me to hear." Cole's next words came out in an evil hiss. "Halfbreeder. Heretic. Harellan!"
"Enough Cole!" Numina said shakily, pain and shame lacing her words. She had not realized what he was talking about at first, but as she began to recognize her own thoughts, she was filled with dread. His last word echoed angrily inside her head. Harellan, a traitor to one's kin, I earned that name the day I made the mistake of sharing my opinion with Esholen back when she did not hate me so.
"But it hurts you! It's why you lied to Josephine."
Numina's cheeks turned red with embarrassment and mortification. She was thankful for being in the lead; the others could not see her they did not need to. Solas and The Iron Bull could read people almost as well as Cole. They could read the discomfort and sense of distraught and pain simply from how tensely she now walked beside her horse.
"I suggest you leave the matter alone, kid," Bull tried.
"But she thinks they hate her, that it's bad for her to think differently about-!"
"Please leave it Cole," Numina said in a sorrowfully flat tone. "I do not wish to discuss it."
The spirit remained silent, realizing that his helping was actually hurting. He would remember it though. He would try to heal it. When she was ready.
The silence was awkward from that point on. The air tingled with the heat of curiosity she could feel coming off Solas and Bull. They kept it to themselves for a surprisingly long time, however. Mounting their horses once more, the group was able to cover several miles before the topic was unavoidably brought up.
"What does Harellan mean, Solas?" Bull asked, trying to do so without Numina hearing, though it was not successful. Outside of the horses hooves tramping on the ground, there wasn't much else in the ways of sounds.
"It's elvish slang adopted after the fall of Arlathan," Solas explained quietly, knowing that Numina was fully aware of the conversation, "derived from the name 'Fen'Harel,' commonly viewed as the trickster god that locked away the rest of the elven pantheon, dooming the elves to become what they are now." His voice was tinged with sadness for whom this word was applied to. "It means 'a traitor to one's own kin.'"
"Damn!" Bull hissed in anger to those that would call Numina such a thing. "And I'm assuming that the Dalish refer to the children of an elf and a human as a 'halfbreed,' meaning that halfbreeder is… Shit!" He shook his head angrily.
Solas agreed with Iron Bull on this one, muttering a string of elven curses under his breath for the ones that would use such a name to describe a person he found himself caring deeply for. Leave it to the Dalish to continue to prove themselves to be arrogant fools...
After a small interlude of silence, Solas spoke up, "Why would your own clan call you that, Numina?" He spoke in a soft tone, using her name in the hope of getting her to open up.
"I do not want to talk about it," she replied flatly, trying to keep any kind of emotion out of her voice.
Solas bowed his head respectfully."Very well. I simply do not understand how the most compassionate and honest person I have met could have such harsh, unfitting title."
"We all make mistakes with who we can trust. Especially with those we consider family," she said, her harsh words gliding on the wind. The matter was dropped. Once again, only for the moment.
Numina tried distracting herself from the emotions and memories Cole had provoked with his prying. She focused on the surroundings around her, trying to think of the elven word that matched what she saw. When she soon found herself reciting "Adahl," tree, more than anything else, Numina simply turned to thinking the word and their translation, attempting to string together new phrases.Var sa'elgaren, our spirits are one, was her favorite attempt so far, but she had no idea if she had constructed it properly.
Dry thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, jarring Numina from her distraction. Monstrous black clouds loomed in the sky ahead of them. The wind was picking up speed, pushing against them as if it was warning them about the storm that followed it. They were going to have to find a place to take shelter or else risk facing the wrath of the coming storm. Numina turned in her saddle, looking back at her companions. "Fan out and try to find some place for us to take shelter, preferably with enough room for the horses."
Wordlessly, Solas, Cole, and Iron Bull tugged on their mounts reigns and spread out amongst the trees. As time went on, the wind grew ever stronger. Fortunately, Iron Bull found a place where it looked like part of a cliff had sheared off, creating a large opening and cave along the side of the rocky wall. It was large enough to offer protection for themselves and the horses.
The first few rain drops had began to fall when they all made it inside. Then the sky opened up and a sheet of rain started crashing down, ringing loudly as it smashed against everything. "Looks like we just made it," Numina breathed, removing the saddle and supplies her mount had carried. They prepared a meal once the horses were unloaded and roped together in the back of the cave, and ate in silence. Afterwards, the others set out their bedrolls, thankful that tents were not needed since the wind was blowing the opposite direction of the entrance.
Numina did not join them, however. Instead she walked over to the opening of the cave, gazing out into the rain. Lightning flashed through their, illuminating everything in violent light before the roar of thunder drowned out even the sound of the rain. She could feel the tiniest of splashes hitting her face as raindrops smacked against the walls and ground around her.
Cole was beside her. "You should talk," he said. "Talking helps you. Especially to Solas. You really like him."
She dropped her gaze the the soaked ground before her, not having to admit to what Cole said because he already knew it was the truth. "What were their reactions?" Numina asked fearfully.
"There was a lot of anger and disbelief," Cole answered. "They are mad at the ones who call you harellan, and they don't understand how you could be called something like that. It doesn't fit." He held her gaze. "It doesn't fit," he told her.
Numina sighed heavily, before walking back to Solas and Iron Bull. Both of them sat around the fire. Bull was sharpening his overly large sword and Solas was reading a tome he had brought along with him. As she sat atop her bedroll, their eyes turned to her, before quickly flashing back to what they were doing. They were blatantly trying to let her know that they were still curious about what Cole had read from her by trying to hide their curiosity badly.
"You know it's almost a bit ironic that 'harellan' is derived from Fen'Harel's name," she said in a quietly smooth voice. It carried an edge of sorrow on its gently ripples. Numina stared into the dancing flames, looking at neither of them. "Fen'Harel is actual the reason I am harellan to some of my clan."
"Your trickster god gave you that title?" Bull asked, confused.
Numina shook her head. "No, nothing like that. But you should know the entire legend the Dalish believe in: Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf, is kin to the the Creators, the elven pantheon the Dalish worship; but he was also recognized by the Forgotten Ones as one of their own for his cunning and tricks. It is said that he is the harbinger of the Great Betrayal, where he used the trust the Creators bore for him to lock them in the heavens and used the trust the Forgotten Ones gave him to lock them in the abyss. Thus, preventing either side from interacting with the mortal world. This is why the Creators were not able to intervene and prevent the fall of Arlathan, the fall of the elves."
She paused for a moment. "This is why the Dalish fear the Dread Wolf, using his name for curses and stories to scare children into behaving. It is said now that he is a bringer of nightmares and will seek you out in dreams, trying to trick you."
"The Dalish have a tendency to place too much value in legends, mistaking them for history," Solas said, coldly.
"Exactly right," Numina agreed. "And they do not accept anything else other than what they are told. They do not think and they do not interpret. I made the mistake of being different." She saw Solas raise an eyebrow. "Legends say that the Creators were at war with the Forgotten Ones, if that is the case… Tell me, what do you think would happen to everyone else if those with godly powers waged a war?"
"They'd get crushed like ants," Bull grumbled.
"The Dalish believed that Fen'Heral did not care about the People." Numina stopped and took in a deep breath. "But I believe that he cared more for the Elvhen than the others, perhaps even more than Mythal the protector, locking up his own kin to save the People from a war between gods." She looked between the other's faces. "I shared my opinion once with someone I thought was a friend, the Keeper's apprentice; and I paid the price for thinking differently. I am called harellan by some because they believed I was tricked by Fen'Harel into thinking him a hero instead the evil trickster he is." Numina's last sentence was laced with mocking sarcasm.
There was a small moment of silence before Cole spoke up. "They're wrong about you. You care more than they realize, like Fen'Harel. You're not a traitor. You're a savior."
Numina chuckled nervously. "Thank you, I think." She did not realize that his last few words were not only meant for her. Cole nodded before vanishing.
"I'll take first watch," Iron Bull said, rising to his feet. He wasn't quite sure what to say.
As Bull's steps grew fainter, Solas turned o Numina. "Cole is right, you know."
"Maybe, but it does not necessarily help that he is. It will not change the opinions harbored against me."
"Perhaps not, but they can help you see the truth," his grey eyes holding hers. "Tel'harellan, Numina. You care more about your family and friends than most."
"Thank you," she breathed, laying herself on her bedroll.
"Sleep well," Solas said quietly.
"Only if you are there," Numina murmured.
Solas hesitated. Numina's words had shaken him. He believed that none of the Dalish could ever come to think of Fen'Heral as anything less than a monster. Yet, here was a Dalish who showed a wisdom and logic interpreted from old legends that had long since been abused as the truth. Learning of the beliefs held on Fen'Heral many years ago had wounded Solas greatly. That truth could be manipulated so greatly and easily… But Numina proved that there was still a shred of hope for the People, that they were not all lost to ignorant tradition. She gave him hope, her wisdom gave him hope. Solas could not help but admire her.
With a lighter heart, Solas closed his eyes, listening to the lulling sounds of the storm. Slipping into the Fade, Solas found her in a dream and joined her willingly, no longer fearful of growing to attached to her.
~~.O.~~
Author's Note:
And another chapter down. Please let me know what you guys think with how I'm doing things. I am always looking for ways to improve.
Other than that, thank you for reading and I hope you are enjoying the story so far.