Solas (noproofneeded) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2018-12-24 12:29:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, *kat, solas |
Solas and a spirit of Wisdom
December 23
Solas' bedroom & the Fade
PG
Complete Narrative |
Solas closed the door to his room and locked it before warding it firmly. It wasn’t that he expected any of his housemates to try barging in – they all seemed perfectly reasonable people – but more that what he intended to do was something of an experiment and if it backlashed, he’d rather keep the fallout to his room and not to the house as a whole. Once he was sure that he would not be disturb or disturb others, he lay down on his bed and settled into the breathing pattern that would allow him to drift off to sleep quickly. He opened his eyes and cocked his head curiously at the whimsy that had brought about this particular configuration of the Fade. It was Arlathan of old, before its fall, even before his kin had turned to tyranny and despotism. He looked down at himself then swept a hand over his head and had to chuckle. It seemed his subconscious had decided to go all out tonight. He had not worn this outfit since the days when he had just been Solas and not also Fen’Harel. The long hair, braided and beaded and bedecked with ornaments, was more familiar but still much as he had worn it back in the day. He looked around and smiled. The facsimile was near perfect and he could almost imagine that it was real. Music thrummed in the air, both from minstrels amusing themselves and others and from the weaving of aeons long spells. Familiar spices and perfumes tickled his nose and if he closed his eyes, he could almost hear the sounds of the merchants calling out their goods in the markets that were nearby. Ahead of him was a small, familiar pavilion, one where he had often met with friends to talk and drink and laugh, where he had sometimes brought lovers to woo and seduce them. He wandered along the path to the pavilion and saw that it had been set up in much the same way as he always did. Two comfortable chaises stood opposite each other and between them sat a table laden with tidbits of food and carafes of wine. He smiled slightly then sat down ad lounged on one of the chaises. He poured himself a goblet of wine and took a few bites of the food, letting himself wallow in... “The past.” He blinked at the eleven woman who had appeared out of nowhere to complete his thought then he inclined his head to her and said fondly, “Bellanaris. She smiled and sat down, helping herself to food and wine. She settled back on the other chaise and watched him for a moment. Then she shook her head and frowned a little. “You dwell too much on the past, da fen.” “Do I?” “Perhaps.” She took a sip of her wine. “What brings you to me, Solas?” “I seek your wisdom, ma’halla.” The woman inclined her head. “Of course.” Solas laid out his plans for the containment of Ellana’s mark in precise, though very arcane, terms. As he did, the elven woman nodded and listened intently and when he finished, she leaned back and sipped at her wine as she considered what he’d said. “Yes, it should work,” she finally said, inclining her head slightly. “But you will only buy her some time with this, not solve the problem entirely.” “I know,” Solas replied. “But time is what she needs. Will you help me find a solution?” The woman tilted her head to one side thoughtfully and was silent for a time. “Yes,” she said after a while. “But only if you will do something for me.” Solas raised an eyebrow and sipped at his wine. “And what is that?” “Stop,” she said. “Stop and think.” Solas frowned. “What do you mean, bellanaris?” The woman sighed and gestured elegantly around them. “Solas, fenor, this is not beneficial to you or anyone else.” His frown deepened. “You would have me forget?” “No, da fen, I would have you live,” she said kindly. “Am I not living now?” Solas said archly. The woman raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you?” She rose and set her goblet aside then came around to kneel before him. She caressed his cheek with her hand and rested her forehead against his. “Arasha,” she whispered. “Ma’sal’shiral.” Solas closed his eyes at the endearments. There was nothing sexual or even romantic about them. Their relationship had always been a meeting of the minds, not of the body or the heart. So few came to spirits of Wisdom seeking their true purpose and she more than most had been left largely alone. Her wisdom lay in magical matters so arcane that few among the Elvhen had ever studied them. But Solas had sought her out again and again, had sought her wisdom, her knowledge and shared his own. In her way, the endearments had sentiment behind them. “Always you look behind,” she murmured. “Never ahead. While the world moves past you and beyond you, leaving you behind.” “I failed them,” Solas said, his voice full of grief. “I tried to save them but I failed them. Should I not seek to make amends?” “Do you seek to make amends or to assuage your fractured pride?” “I...” Solas frowned and tried to pull away but the spirit of Wisdom held him firm. He knew he could break away if he truly wanted but that would hurt her and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. “Is it wrong to want to give the People their home, their lives, their greatness back?” “Oh, da fen,” she said gently. “When you brought down the Veil, you ended the timelessness of our lives. On both sides of the Veil. Time moved on and so did we and so did they. There is no going back for any of us. Compassion has tried to tell you this many times.” Solas made a low sound of pain and anguish. “No.” “Yes,” she said firmly. “It is not a bad thing, Solas. Just because the Evanuris changed in ways that brought horror and terror to the People does not mean that all change is bad.” She smiled and it was coy and almost teasing. “If the People had not changed, would Ellana have come into your life?” His breath caught at the truth behind that statement. “That is unfair.” Her expression hardened a little. “What is unfair is what you plan to do. The destruction and devastation you plan to wreak on people who do not know you and do not remember you. And do not care. Is your pride so great that you would turn into the very thing you professed to despise? Or worse, since the Evanuris only sought to rule the People and not destroy them. At least, for the moment.” “You are cruel,” Solas said, almost petulantly. “I am Wisdom,” she said archly. “And Wisdom is not always comfortable and gentle.” She paused. “Or kind. But it is Wisdom and is that not what you seek?” Now she allowed Solas to pull away. He rose and paced around the pavilion, taking great gulps on his wine from a goblet that never seemed to empty. As he prowled, the woman returned to her own chaise and simply watched him. And waited. Music and light shimmered through the air as Solas paced, his thoughts whirling around in his mind. He wanted to reject all that she’d said but there was no wisdom in lying so he knew that all she’d sad was the truth. Finally something she’d said sank in and he stopped and turned to look at her. “For the moment. You said my kin did not seek to destroy the People for the moment.” He frowned. “What do you mean by that?” “Compassion tried to tell you but you would not listen,” she said. “He was very distressed by that.” Solas looked away. He knew he’d upset Cole more than once, that the young spirit of Compassion had hated that he couldn’t heal Solas’ hurts. “What did he know?” “He heard their wails, you know,” the spirit said thoughtfully. “We all hear them if we wander over to where they are imprisoned. They wail and scream and howl their anger and hatred of you, of their losses and imprisonment, of the ruination of their plans. You think that what you did destroyed the people. They would have done worse had you not acted.” Solas whirled to stare at her, ignoring the thump of his braids against his shoulder and the tinkling of the ornaments in his hair. “What?” “Oh, fenor, you always believed the best of them, even when they were at their worst,” she said. “That is why you never truly raised arms against them.” “They were generals, great leaders,” he said almost sullenly. “What could I have done against them?” “But that was not it, was it, da fen?” she continued remorselessly. “You were advised many times to fight, to raise an army and take the battle to them, that your clandestine rebellion was not enough. But you couldn’t bear to risk harming them, even after all they’d done.” “I wanted to kill them!” he snapped. “I still do. They killed Mythal!” “And Mythal will take her vengeance if she is given the chance,” the woman said calmly. “But that has never been your path, has it?” Solas stared at her, frustration plain on his face. “What do you want of me?” he finally demanded. “That you think, ma’sal’shiral. That you stop simply reacting and think. That is all I ask.” Solas turned away and leaned his hands against the balustrade of the pavilion. “I do nothing but think,” he said sullenly as he stared over the recreation of Arlathan. “Do you?” He turned and glared at her but she seemed utterly unphased by his reaction. She rose again and walked over to him. “Think on what I have said, da fen, and when you ready, return to me.” She placed a gentle, comforting hand in his shoulder. “Now, though, I think it is time for you to... wake up.” Solas jerked awake with a startled oath and scowled at the wall opposite. He had the answers that he’d wanted but unfortunately that wasn’t all that he’d received. Yet, he knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore everything that spirit had said nor would he want to. She was an old friend, one he was glad he’d been able to reach from here, and she’d never steered him wrong before. But the things she’d said... He shook his head and set those thoughts aside for now. He could think about them later, when he had time. For now, he wanted to review his notes on the containment now that he’d had it confirmed it should work. And if he suddenly missed the long braids he’d once worn, well, that wasn’t worth thinking about much at all, not matter what was happening. Translations for those who can't read the mouseovers Bellanaris - Eternity, clearly a pet name between them da fen - little wolf ma’halla - my halla, an endearment for a close friend that you trust implicitly fenor - Precious, could be translated as ‘dear’ or ‘beloved’ Arasha - My happiness Ma’sal’shiral - ‘love of my life’ or ‘my soul’s journey’ |