Yo!

So, this fics progressing pretty well, right?

We're coming up on the first anniversary in a few weeks, so maybe by then we'll wrap up Part 1.

(I won't hold my breath tho, I take a while to get these chapters out)

Anyhoo! Happy Reading!

~Garnet

Banal Silaima VI

Memories danced through Solas similarly to the elves crowded in the ballroom at the Winter Palace in Halamshiral. The smiles on their faces were mirthful and spirited as children, young enough to be unaffected by grief, famine or despair. It was fascinating, though disturbing; these elves already embraced and celebrated a monumental shift in power through Briala's ascension to the throne of Orlais, even though her position was far from secure.

The Valmont family would not allow Briala to make any major changes; that is if they allowed her to live very long at all.

Frankly, it was Solas' intention to ensure that Briala governed for as long as possible. Her hasty gathering of elves to serve as courtiers, advisers and enchanters offered Solas an invaluable opportunity to position his own agents within Orlais. Briala's coronation and following banquet was such a large occasion that it suited Solas to attend secretly and observe the powers at play in Briala's court.

Ever attached to the past, Briala reformed the Emerald Knights to serve as her personal guards. They marched about the palace in their gilded armor and vibrant cloaks with a swaggering air of invulnerability. The new empress was draped in gold silk, her hair twisted into an intricate bun decorated with golden roses and a string of pearls.

The new Elven nobility still opted for Orlesian masks, though now they were designed with carvings in the fashion of Dalish vallaslin. One of Solas' agents managed to procure one, which offered Solas a simple disguise to wear while navigating the palace. He also wore a dark blue hooded cape lined with samite. He was plain-looking and unobtrusive; the servants barely offered him a second glance.

Only a single agent in attendance at the ball kept routine correspondence with Solas throughout the evening. Of course he instructed over a dozen agents to mingle within the guests, but only Dahn was permitted to speak directly with Solas.

Dahn was recruited as an agent by Felassan before Solas joined the Inquisition. Felassan brought Dahn from the alienage in Val Royeaux. There, Dahn lived most of his life hiding the fact the he was a mage and was all but tranquil by choice before Felassan recruited him to serve Solas. Dahn was subtly placed at Haven before its destruction and blended in as a refugee at Skyhold for years before he was called to officially serve as an agent.

At first, he merely observed and carried information between agents. After the attempted Qunari invasion, Dahn became a liaison between Solas' agents and the flock of elves that were evacuating their alienages or clans to seek out Fen'Harel.

He was an excellent intermediary, with his rather austere looks and mild voice; positioned that no one would imagine his position as a direct contact with Solas for many years now.

Solas had wandered the palace inconspicuously, with hopes to remain perched above the other guests to best note unusual comings and go–

And there she was... he should have been prepared to see her, but...

Sara Lavellan climbed the stairs to the Empress' upper gallery with an air of unfractured dignity and behind her, The Iron Bull served as her imposing protector. She remained behind the wall of Emerald Knights that lined the upper gallery for only a few moments. When she emerged, her facade of poise was ruffled slightly; her face was flushed from her cheeks down to her neck and the tops of her shoulders.

She'd always had lovely, lithe shoulders. Before, he'd anoint her shoulders with kisses; a kiss for every nearly imperceptible freckle.

But that was before. Now he had- he had no right to think of her that way.

Sara immediately went to consult with Iron Bull and Solas watched him skulk off across the room and all too soon, several members of the former Inquisition had gathered across the ballroom. They were playing a dangerous Game; their presence would only cause people mistrust. The Inquisition was disbanded, thus the act of their meeting, particularly at the gathering to honor the new empress of Orlais, was a mistake.

Solas quickly found Dahn nearby, observing the conversation as well.

"I want you to speak with Lady Lavellan for me," Solas whispered without preamble.

"As you wish, Hahren," Dahn replied. His voice was low and careful. "Is that wise?"

Solas' jaw clenched in shame. "No," he admitted. "But give her my regards and tell her that I hope she finds whatever it is that she's clearly looking for." Knowing Sara, she'd likely uncovered every stone in this palace.

While Dahn went to heed his request, Solas re-positioned himself elsewhere in the ballroom. Something was clearly developing between Sara and Briala. Something so important that Sara decided to gather with her former allies in public under scrutiny. Whatever was happening, he wished to know; he left Sara with the hopes that she'd live comfortably. He only hoped that she wasn't taking unnecessary risks.

"Hahren." Dahn found him with hesitant eyes. "Lady Lavellan asked to speak with you."

"No," Solas grunted curtly.

"I informed her that it was impossible," Dahn murmured, abashed. "She seemed frantic, Hahren. Nervous even. She claimed that she wanted to ask you about Empress Briala and Felassan."

And more elements fell into what was already an odd situation. Sara. Briala. Felassan. The disbanded Inquisition. The Orlesian Empire.

"I told her that Felassan was a traitor," Dahn continued. Solas looked at him coolly, suspicion nearly overwhelming him. "You should not have told her anything," he scolded.

Dahn stiffened, his eyes wide and sorry. "I only wished–"

"You do not speak for me," Solas snapped. "Not to her."

"Yes, Hahren."

Solas lingered at the Winter Palace for another reckless hour, his mind racing with memories and pondering.

He ultimately decided that Sara's interest in Felassan and her odd, uneasy meetings with her old allies were not his concern. He decided to depart from the palace when Briala descended from her gallery with a pair of guards. She crossed the room slowly, allowing her new subjects to kiss her hand respectfully or tell her how lovely she looked before stopping to speak with a dark haired woman in a modest, violet gown.

That isn't just a woman, Solas realized suddenly. That is Josephine.

He watched their exchange closely, but even a woman as learned in etiquette as Josephine could not hide when she was in shock. Solas approached them covertly, stopping every other step to blend with the crowd of people and still hear their conversation. By the time he was close enough to hear them, Cassandra had also joined the discussion.

"–that we can do," Josephine was pleading. "I promise, you have nothing to be concerned about."

"I will determine that after some questioning, Lady Montilyet," Briala replied coldly. "Comtesse Lavellan and the Inquisition's ties to Fen'Harel were overlooked because we had a greater enemy in Corypheus and the Qunari. I find it passing strange that the Inquisition disbands as Fen'Harel begins to seize agents. Almost as if to support his efforts covertly."

Solas felt his fists close, almost against his will. He'd deliberately left the Inquisition to remove Sara from his plans. Briala's suspicion of her was maddening.

"This is madness!" Cassandra boomed, ever uncouth though accurate. "The Comtesse is not Orlesian. You have no right to hold her without the permission of Viscount Tethras."

Briala shrugged dismissively. "Viscount Tethras is not here."

"He was delayed, but he is in Orlais, I assure you," Josephine explained. "When he arrives, he will not be pleased with the imprisoning of his citizen and friend."

"Not to mention Divine Victoria." Cassandra crossed her arms. "She is also disgusted at your accusations and actions against the Comtesse."

"Grand Enchanter Vivienne will take offense as well," Josephine reminded the empress.

"And Hawke," Cassandra grunted.

If Briala was intimidated, her face did not betray her thoughts. That was unnerving. She could not care less about the friends and allies that Sara had.

"Do you know who else will be outraged by the Comtesse's imprisonment?" Briala's smile was small and satisfied. "Fen'Harel."

She is not wrong, Solas thought, his palms moistening and heart drumming in his chest. But I cannot afford to be baited.

"Empress Briala, please see reason." Josephine seemed to be on the verge of tears. "Comtesse Lavellan has lived in Kirkwall for four years. Most of the Free Marches have been devoid of word of Solas and his agents. There has–"

"You still speak of Fen'Harel familiarly, Lady Montilyet," Briala interrupted with sudden rage, "knowing that he intends to destroy this world?"

"I misspoke–"

"Your Solas is a traitor and a murderer!" The crowd in the ballroom began to stare at their empress in shock. "And your Comtesse would stand beside him through anything. If Viscount Tethras wishes to petition for her, he may in person. But until then, she will test her loyalty to the last true elves and all the people of Thedas." Briala suddenly seemed to realize that she made a performance of her anger, so she composed herself and strode from the ballroom in silence, her new Emerald Knights trailing behind her.

All slowly fell into place as Solas stepped from the congested ballroom and outside into the cool garden to think.

Briala views me as an enemy of Orlais, likely for Felassan and the loss of the eluvians. This did not surprise Solas. There would always be consequences for what ultimately happened to Felassan.

Yet, Briala also views Sara as an ally to me, thus another enemy to Orlais. She imprisoned Sara to goad me... She wants me to take action but how far will she go to bait me?

Solas felt his stomach twist in dread. Briala was powerful, ruthless and fair. She would lose no sleep trading Sara's life for Felassan's.

It is almost poetic, Solas thought bitterly. I took her hahren, so she'll take my heart.

If he wanted Sara to die, Solas would have let her come away with him when she asked.

"Let me help you, Solas... Var lath vir suledin..."

I surrendered Sara to give her some years of peace... Solas straightened his cloak around his shoulders resolutely. Briala will not invalidate my decision.

The dungeons of the Winter Palace somehow reflected the opulence of the upper floors. The stone floors were laid intricately, similarly to the mosaic tiles of ancient elven architecture, but without the glossy shine. The bars of each cell were gilded and intersected in a diamond pattern. Every fifty feet, a dim sconce flickered pitifully and the halls of cells went like this for three descending floors.

The prisoners, each as haggard and defeated as the last, sunk into slumber as Solas passed them. The fewer people knew of this madness the better.

Each floor was curiously unguarded, so Solas walked with hesitant, weary steps. If he was being baited by the empress, he would need to think of an escape quickly, without compromising his position.

Granted the very decision to rescue Sara compromised him, but why dig a deeper hole to climb out of.

He was midway down the second descended hallway when he heard a scream from below so harrowing it made his stomach turn. During his time in the Inquisition, he was spared witnessing any of Sara's serious injuries. When he was with her, she managed to only walk away from fights with cuts, burns and bruises; all manageable injuries in her experience. She one told him that she'd broken a bone as a girl and that hurt more than being pierced by a Hurlock's arrow. She said that as she pulled said arrow from her shoulder with no more than a hiss from the stinging.

Knowing that the scream that echoed through the dungeons were likely hers and that she was in such deep pain made him quicken his steps. As he walked down the final flight of stairs, the screaming suddenly stopped. Deep voices mumbled down the hall and the light reflected on the walls was the bright blue-green of veilfire.

Two emerald knights talked outside of a cell in the middle of the hall. "I don't know..." one was saying, "... she claims she doesn't know."

"The empress' orders were clear," the other grunted smugly. "She isn't supposed to survive."

That was enough for Solas: he glided quickly toward them, forcing the reluctant knight's head against the wall where he fell quickly unconscious. The smug one fumbled for the blade at his waist, but he was too slow. Solas grabbed his sword hand and enshrouded it with ice. With his other hand he covered the knight's mouth to quiet his inevitable scream as the ice shattered, separating his hand from his arm.

The smug one quickly fainted from shock as Solas reached in his pocket for a spare key to the cell. Inside, Sara hung from the ceiling, her hands bound above her head, completely unconscious. She was pale and clammy, her veins blue and pronounced against her skin. Her lips were cracked and swollen with dry blood where she likely bit down in pain. Solas gently unshackled her hands from their restraints and held on to her around her waist so she wouldn't fall on the hard ground. Her wooden arm, though craftily made, was splinted around the faux wrist. He couldn't initially see where they tortured her, but as he examined her body he noted dark bruises scattered up her thighs.

Solas repressed a sudden flood of rage and wrapped his cloak around her before taking her in his arms.

As he climbed the first staircase, shouting and banging echoed through the hall. Solas was relieved that the probable fighting was another floor higher. Perhaps he could use whatever was happening as a diversion to aid his escape.

Far too many knights surrounded the Iron Bull as he swung his monstrous axe to keep them at bay. He'd charged the dungeons alone; a bold but foolish decision. Solas remotely incapacitated as many knights as he could without arousing suspicion and eventually, only a handful remained for Iron Bull to defeat.

They met eyes after Iron Bull took a tired breath and he flexed his grip on his axe.

"You," Iron Bull muttered.

"Yes," Solas replied, ready for a sudden strike.

"Is that the Boss?"

"It is," Solas admitted.

"How did you know she was in trouble?" Iron Bull's voice was more curious than accusing.

"I have my ways of knowing." Solas shifted and took a few steps toward him.

"And you're saving her because...?"

Solas smiled gently. "I'm sure you know why."

The clattering of approaching armor rang through the halls. They would not be alone much longer.

"I don't wish to fight you," Solas warned.

Iron Bull all but roared with laughter. "I'm sure you don't."

"This is not a joke." The steps increased in volume. "We don't have time for this. Briala means to kill her."

All too soon, the only exit was blocked by a garrison of Knights. Iron Bull fidgeted with his axe as the room filled with tension, everyone waiting for someone to attack.

"Fuck," Iron Bull swore and groaned angrily. "I'll hold them off."

Solas met his glare with a curt nod. He stood behind Iron Bull as he cleared a path for them. At the first opening, Solas held Sara tighter against him and maneuvered through the knights. He shattered the first window he came across in the palace and leapt from it gracefully, the Winter Palace becoming smaller and smaller as they escaped into the night.

Elven Phrases

Var lath vir suledin: Our love will endure/prevail

(Thanks to Project Elvhen by FenxShiral for the vocabulary)

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