I tossed the note into the fire, immediate panic settling like ice in my bones.

"We can approach Clan Lavellan immediately," Cullen announced.

Leliana shook her head and suggested, "We should send a smaller force to deal with the threat first."

"I thought they were safe," I hissed.

"Being the clan of the Herald earned them many looks–some of them more sharp than others," Josephine offered. "We will protect them though."

"I should go to them," I insisted.

"No, Inquisitor! You are needed here. Your presence among the clan may aggravate things."

"So I should just sit here?" I huffed indignantly.

"You should trust us to help your clan," Cullen affirmed.

I let a beat pass before nodding solemnly. "Do whatever you can."

"We will let you know the second they are safe," Josephine assured.

I nodded again and made my way out of the war council room. I was lost, wandering. My mind swirled with thoughts until I could barely hear the sounds of Skyhold around me. I didn't realize I was at the base of the library until I accidentally knocked over a paint pot. The color spilled out across the floor, but I couldn't find the strength to care. I lifted my head and spotted Solas.

He dipped his brush in the paint around him carefully, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His forearms were exposed and with each stroke of the brush, you could see the muscles there at play beneath his skin.

"Didn't you tell me not to skulk around, Inquisitor?" Solas said without moving his focus from his painting.

"Not skulking, just observing," I replied. "What are you painting?"

"Whatever comes to mind," he said easily, as if that wasn't a ridiculously vague answer.

I crossed my arms and slid up beside him, careful to avoid the paint. "Do you paint often?"

"It is one of my many hobbies."

"Along with walking in the Fade?" I teased.

He didn't respond to me, his brow furrowing as he focused on his brushstrokes. Miffed, I bent down to dip my finger in one pot of paint. Carefully, I brought it up to his face and placed one little dot of red on his nose.

"What was that for?" he said with a breathy chuckle.

"For being serious even when you're having fun."

"I am not being serious," he scoffed with mock offense.

"You absolutely are," I chided.

When he bent to also place his finger in the paint, I moved to bolt with a burst of laughter. He grabbed me around the waist, hauling me close to his chest. "Pay for your sins," he demanded playfully as he swiped his paint-covered finger across my cheek.

I laughed freely, a tangle of sour emotions unwinding in my chest. Realizing how close we were, however, I pulled away. "I'm sorry. I should be giving you space to think."

"I said I needed time, not space. You may invade my space as much as you'd like. As long as you don't have a lizard in your hands."

"Are you still upset with Sera for that?" I chuckled. "I just don't want to make you uncomfortable."

"Nothing you do could make me uncomfortable."

I huffed softly with mock irritation. "You're making it very difficult to keep my distance."

"Fine, why don't we talk while I paint. What sort of questions do you have for me today?"

Several flew to my mind at once, but I started with the most interesting one, "Tell me your favorite place to visit."

"Is it a basic answer to say Arlathan?"

"What was it like?" I asked as I watched him carefully and painstakingly make each line in his mural.

"It is wondrous, Lethallen. Enormous towers of crystal hanging in the sky like clouds. The halla roam freely and they want for nothing. In my youth I explored Arlathan as much as I could."

"What were you like when you were younger?" I questioned. "Was young Solas as serious as he is today?"

"No, I fear I was reckless and hot-tempered in my youth. It has cooled considerably as I've aged."

I hummed in response before saying, "A small Solas would be rather cute I bet."

"I was never small," Solas said aloofly.

I laughed. "You must have been small once."

"Inquisitor!" Cullen called. "Inquisitor, you are needed at the battlements! Varric's friend has arrived."

"Shit," I murmured.

"Not looking forward to this meeting?" Solas gently prodded me with his elbow.

I shook my head. "I'm not looking forward to the aftermath. If Varric is speaking of who Leliana thinks, I fear I may have to keep Cassandra from murdering him."

"Go, Inquisitor," Solas urged. "Your people need you."

"Blackwall! I called into the barn. "Blackwall, I was going to head out and look for Grey Warden artifacts and was wondering–what are you doing?"

"Shh!" he said, not looking up from the smattering of cards before him.

I put my hands to my chest in a display of mock offense. "What is this about?"

"Agh, I lost my concentration," the burly Grey Warden hissed.

I sat opposite him and looked at the cards. "You're playing Diamond Back…alone. Why?"

Blackwall huffed and leaned back in his seat. "I thought it would be fun to teach Solas how to play last night. First game we played, he beat me. Then he beat me again–" he sighed and shook his head–"Had to walk back to my quarters with my bits in a bucket."

I choked on a laugh and covered my mouth. "Are you sure he wasn't just pretending to not know how to play?"

Blackwell tapped his index finger onto the cards and said, "I don't know, but I'm warning you, Inquisitor. That man is ruthless. Don't play any games with him"

"I'll have to keep that in mind," I replied with a chuckle.

"Did I tell you what Cole said to me the other day?"

I crossed my arms, a bemused smirk playing at my lips. "Did he say something astute but impolite again?"

"He demanded that I tell him how I 'got hair on my face'. I tried to tell him to go ask his adoptive father, Varric, but the boy was insistent that I share my secrets instead."

"What did you tell him?"

"What could I say? He's a spirit. Do spirits even grow hair?"

I shrugged and shuffled some hay aside with my boot as the silence fell between us.

"You know the Commander has eyes for you," Blackwall blurted.

"W-what?" I sputtered.

"Anyone can see it. But it seems you have your eyes locked on someone else. A certain apostate."

"For fuck's sake, does anyone mind their business around here?" I muttered.

Blackwall lifted his hands innocently. "I'm just saying, you should let him down gently is all."

"Cullen does not have feelings for me. And my own feelings are…complicated."

"What do you mean?"

I rose to my feet and turned my back to Blackwall. I pressed a hand to the wood of the carved rocking-griffon that Blackwall was always working with.

"He's hiding things from me," I whispered so softly I barely heard the words. "I don't know what. But it's there."

The Grey Warden grunted and stroked his beard thoughtfully. "It makes sense that a mysterious apostate who appears out of nowhere would be…mysterious."

"I'm not asking him to spill all his secrets, but it makes me wonder if I'm letting my judgement be clouded."

"Matters of the heart are never ruled by logic. You either feel or you don't."

I sighed with resignation and looked over my shoulder at Blackwall. "I guess there's not much I can do until he's ready to tell me himself."

"Some people carry secrets for a reason, Inquisitor. It's not always best to pry," Blackwall said grimly.