ellana lavellan (ofandraste) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2019-02-01 14:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, *tiny, ellana lavellan |
Ellana had headed out early - she might have had a little tinge of a hangover, but you spend so many ears around soldiers and amongst the Dalish before that and its nothing you aren’t used to. She’d had a bit too much ale, that was for sure and she’d dipped out of the party very quickly after spilling a bit of a secret to Shuri that she’d really not been intending on sharing. You know, Ellana liked to keep her personal life private - she’d always been fairly good at that, even when she was still with her clan. But apparently, Atlantis had other ideas about that. Wildly, wildly different ideas would be putting it mildly still. But here she was, nonetheless. No worse for wear than she had been after the first night here when Hawke and Varric showed her the Dive. At least she’d spilled the secret to Shuri and not to someone else - she’d be working close with the girl anyway so, maybe it would create trust or something else.
Working with Shuri, well not working with so much as complaining at and getting her to do her a favour, was what found Ellana sat on the beach on the other side of the island from where everyone lived. It was early in the day, early enough for her to still smell a bit of the sunrise and fire from the night before on the wind as she sat there in the sand. She’d considered wearing her armour, given the reason she had headed out here - but opted for a simple pair of dark leggings, a fairly loose v-neck, and some sturdy boots. She’d had a jacket on to fight the cold - but she’d taken it off when she’d got out to the beach. The temperature didn’t really bother her and it was a bit safer to not be messing with any sleeves or anything that could get her tripped up.
Unfolding her left hand she looked down at it - she’d gone and told medical about her little ‘issue’, just to be polite or whatever. And it was an issue, even more of one now that Hawke had told her (incredibly vaguely, of course) that she ends up losing the hand to save the rest of her or whatever. As if falling out of the damn sky hadn’t been enough, she had to keep making stupidly bad decisions apparently. Stupidly bad decisions like taking a slow, deep breath before focusing a bit - her hand lighting up in its signature bright green glow before a burning pain shot through her whole arm and up into her shoulder. “Shit.” She grumbled beneath her breath harshly - just glad she’d been sat on the ground, because that would have brought her to her damn knees. The next breath she took was shaky as she leaned forward, elbows rested upon her knees as she looked out at the water.
Solas had been in Atlantis long enough to know that he should have been more wary about consuming the food and drink at the bonfire. He hadn’t realised the effects the previous evening because he’d largely kept to himself but that morning as he’d been teaching, his inability to lie had become obvious and while it hadn’t affected the class much once he’d told them what was going on - other than his rather blunt but truthful comment about a particular student’s art setting off a flood of tears - he’d ended up cancelling the rest of his classes for the day. Everyone had been understanding. This was, after all, an unusual situation. He’d been walking home when he’d felt it - the distinct sense of Fade magic. There was only one person who it could be coming from and he’d hesitated before turning towards the source. It was familiar, yes, but not quite right at the same time. Which possibly meant that Ellana was from a time before the mark had started to degrade but after it had started acting up. If that was the case then he might be able to do something about it that was less extreme than amputating her arm. That she might not be overly pleased to see him was something he would just have to deal with. When he came round the corner, he saw Ellana sitting on the beach. He slowed as he approached before coming to a halt a short distance away. “Ellana…” He grimaced slightly. He wasn’t sure he had the right to call her that anymore. “Inquisitor.” ’Well, shit.’ She thought to herself. Of course, Ellana probably could have imagined that actually using the anchor might draw attention she wasn’t sure she was actually ready to deal with. Of course, there also came a point where she probably wasn’t actually ever going to be in a precisely ‘great’ place for some rather particular conversations or interactions and so inevitably, they’d be dealt with in not so great a place. That mostly metaphorical wound being so fresh for her coupled with the fact that she was unaware, as of yet, that she was still under the spell of not being able to lie - well, you probably couldn’t have painted a worse picture for what she should have known (if she’d been an emotionally competent and entirely rational person) might come of her sitting here testing the anchor out. Which was, of course with her luck and history of truly amazing decisions, precisely what happened… At least she’d had her back to him as he’d walked up, that way she wouldn’t have to deny the expression on her face and try and play it off as just mild shock. Clearly cautious, if the fact that he’d clearly stayed back a… safe distance. Why the hell did he have to be so quiet. It was unfair, really, because she never could have heard him approaching and that put her very biased mind in the firm setting that she was at a disadvantage here - granted, she probably was, if only because her somewhat volatile personality, pent up anger, and current inability to lie was definitely just a spectacularly bad combination for the Inquisitor. The sort of combination that even without the inability to lie often got her in trouble and now that was just going to be… heightened. She stayed silent for a minute - part of her wanted to snap at him for using her name, an odd thing to want to snap at really because it wasn’t like before the Inquisition she hadn’t just been Ellana but afterwards it became intimate somehow, not that she was sure how that’d happened. It just had. But the words got all jumbled in her mind and she’d opened her mouth and almost felt the compulsion to tell him Ellana was fine before she’d, accompanied by an incredibly awkward little noise, managed to choke them back. “Solas.” She answered simply. Solas drank in the sight of Ellana, even though she wasn’t facing him. Leaving her had been one of the hardest things he’d ever done. Seeing her again, even though she had been clearly suffering from the effects of the overloading mark, had been a painful joy. There was a part of him that wanted to thrown himself at her feet, to pledge himself to her, to please her as he once had Andruil. It was that last thought that made him shake his head, though that was more at the way the tale had been twisted by the Dalish. Ellana reminded him of Andruil at times, though without the delusion of tyranny. “I…” he began before trailing off. He drew in a breath then spoke. “I felt the magic of the mark. It was… not quite it should be. How… When are have you been brought here from? It does not feel as bad as last I…” He broke off and actually took a step back, his eyes widening for a moment. That last was not what he’d intended to say, then he remembered his morning of blunt honesty. No, he could not do this here. Not with Ellana. “Forgive me,” he said, taking a couple more steps backwards. “I… I should go.” As last he’d seen she assumed was where that was about to go. If anything was to judge by what Hawke had said and what Varric had hinted at… well, it sounded like Solas was from after her as well. Apparently she had the unlucky circumstances to be the only one who didn’t know how things went, of course, that was probably for the better given it sort of ended in the loss of her hand - a limb she was, pretty obviously okay with retaining if she could. She figured, any differences aside they could all four probably at least agree on that. “If you walk away again right now, you won’t make it more than ten feet.” It was an empty threat. A completely empty threat. Even more empty because well, shit that hadn’t been what she’d even meant to say. There was way too much weight in that. Way too much… everything in what she’d said and then it became all too clear to her that, while she’d escaped the morning unscathed because she’d not really dealt with anyone while she’d been out here getting up the nerve to try things out. She was probably not going to make it out of this in the same condition… especially since she was now acutely aware that she was apparently still under whatever spell had her unable to lie the night before. It wouldn’t have been so bad if she had tacked that convenient again into the middle of the sentence. Damn it. They hadn’t been joking when they were talking about the island being all sorts of a shit show at times, were they? As much as the semi-admission had been unintended, Ellana figued at that point she may as well face him. She’d already set this up to be awkward, as if it ever could have avoided that, so screw it - may as well look awkward right in the face. The Inquisitor was full of only the best decisions, of course. Getting up slowly, she wet her lips - the arm still ached, so it took her a minute and she kept her face turned away so it wouldn’t show. “Its only been a few months.” She would have answered that honestly anyway, “Hawke already vaguely told me that I lose the arm, so don’t feel like you have to hold back.” She added abruptly, turning around to face him - her eyes finally landing on his face. Something that twisted the pit of her stomach more than she’d have liked. Solas had to admit he was impressed at the threat, even though it was fairly useless. With the power he possessed, there was little he was afraid of. But the threat was powerful in its own way because Ellana possessed a power over him that few ever had. In fact, he wasn’t sure anyone ever had. He’d enjoyed his dalliances in the past but he couldn’t remember anyone capturing him the way Ellana had. So her threat did make him stop, if perhaps not for the reasons she might think. He kept his reaction to the news that Hawke had told her well hidden. He wasn’t surprised though. He had thought that someone might tell her, though he’d expected it would be Varric. Still, Varric did tend to defer to Hawke so perhaps that was why it had been him. “It was not what I would have preferred,” he said. The geas he was under had no need to compel that answer out of him. It was true, after all. “I did not anticipate the mark destabilising in the way it did and by the time I found out…” His regret was obvious. “It was too late. There was nothing else I could do that would save your life.” He paused for only a fraction before the geas compelled a truth out of him. “And I could not bear to see you in such pain when I had already given you so much pain of my own making,” he whispered. Part of her was surprised he’d stopped, that he’d turned around to face her - but that was definitely just the whole ‘egregiously pissed off and probably not for the reasons anyone thinks’ thing. Bitterness was a petty thing, and unfortunately Ellana had never been above a bit of pettiness - usually it came out in sarcasm, or a creative way to pass judgement on someone. But this was different, this was a wholly different emotion - one that threatened a part of her that was volatile in a way she thoroughly knew wasn’t the greatest. She choked back a snarky remark about the fact that he hadn’t just walked away this time. She only half believed it anyway. She did watch him carefully though, she was now aware that lying wasn’t exactly possible for her at the moment - but Solas had never been a liar, at least not in what he said, so despite the fact he was being a little more forthright than usual, she wasn’t yet suspicious. It had all just been lying by omission with him, which is why she didn’t fault him for that (surprising as most might find it, she didn’t do that even now). You couldn’t fault someone for lies they didn’t actually tell, she was at least rational in that way. Or biased, because a part of her didn’t want to hate him a part of her wanted to… well, whatever. “Well, shit. It did - or is, or whatever.” She answered back, she actually wasn’t 100% sure, he actually clearly knew more about it than she did. She only knew it had become a lot more painful to use it, that it had been doing weird shit… even before Atlantis. She took a deep breath, biting down on her lower lip because she knew exactly what would tumble out if she opened her mouth, but it felt too much to hold it in. She suspected that was another fun side effect of what she was, very acutely, learning was the ‘fun’ part of Atlantis. “Don’t try and sell me some bullshit that you couldn’t have found me. I wasn’t exactly hiding.” It was a bitterly true statement, even though she knew that there would have been nothing but drama if he had checked in on her. “Willing to risk killing me off emotionally, but not physically, what a comfort.” She said under her breath through gritted teeth, clearly attempting to hold herself back - at least partly - and failing utterly at it. Solas was immediately concerned. It was surely too soon for the mark to destabilise but then, he didn’t know how long it had been doing so before he became aware of what was happening, which hadn’t been until after he’d thrown the Qunari into the Inquisition’s way. If he had known sooner, he would have… well, he honestly wasn’t sure what he would have done. Something to be certain. “I can help,” he found himself saying. “Without removing your arm. I hope. It’s early in the process though so I don’t believe that would be necessary.” The mark wasn’t what he’d intended and it had certainly been warped by Corypheus but he knew magic that others didn’t, that had been lost long ago. “I could have, yes,” he said and he bit back the sigh at the work of the geas. “Had I known what was happening, yes, I could have found you. My attention was on the eluvian network and regaining control over as much of it as I could.” He winced at her last sally and knew he deserved it and he certainly didn’t deserve her forgiveness. “You are stronger than that.” He paused then said quietly but still audibly, “You are stronger than I am.” He shook his head and sighed. “I am not welcome. I can see that. I shall leave you. Your mark though… something must be done. Perhaps Hawke would be an acceptable alternative? He is clever and strong and I can guide him through the process of examining it to see what must be done.” Ellana brought a hand up to the intersection of her brows, furrowing them in frustration as she pressed a knuckle into her skin. Frustration probably wasn’t a strong enough word. An honest-to-whatever-god-maker-whoever understatement. There was something weirdly cathartic about just saying what was actually deeply buried down in there, but at the same time she was constricted by it. It was the sort of compulsion that played too much into the worst parts of her personality, the irrational and loud part. This was, honestly, the only reason she’d actually avoided him. If she could have trusted herself to just hide behind some stupid lie that she thought he was an asshole because of all the other stuff and none of the more personal bits, she wouldn’t have avoided him. She damn well knew that there was no real solving the whole anchor problem without his guidance on it, without his help. She could be big enough to admit that, just not to trust herself. But that was basically semantics at this point, since that option had been wrested out of her control, apparently. “Will you stop that.” She said, the frustration clear in her tone. Half because of… well everything, and half because she really preferred having at least a little control over when her emotions got the better of her. “If I wanted you to fuck off, I would have told you to fuck off already. I would have opened with it. I have no problem with that, if you seem to have, you know - forgotten while you were off being too busy with what you think is right and what you want.” Granted, he didn’t need to know that that was less because of her and more thanks to Atlantis being so fun at the moment. Volatile was also starting to seem a little like an understatement as well as she grumbled audibly, not even bothering to hide the frustration. Bringing her hand down from her brow she folded her arms over her chest. “I’m so damn exhausted of people telling me, what I am. I didn’t ask for any of this and everyone is always so damn keen on forgetting that and forgetting I’m capable of making my own damn decisions.” Okay, that was a little bit more about things in general and the way the last while had gone and the knowledge - at least assumably from Hawke’s light hints - that that didn’t really change. “We all agree something has to be done, and I think we can all… agree… I’m a little more useful with two hands and or breathing.” Solas winced at her reply and he opened his mouth to say something, probably something just as tart and sarcastic, but then he closed it again with a sigh. He turned from her a little and stared out over the ocean, his shoulders slumping, his posture becoming more ‘Solas the unimportant hedge wizard’ than ‘Solas, Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf’. “It seems that all I ever do is fail people,” he said and he would have cursed the geas but it was nothing but the truth, little though he wanted to admit it. Ever since he’d found out what his kin were doing, what they’d become, he had felt like he had failed people. Failed to notice what was happening earlier because he was too wrapped up in what he wanted, his interests, his pleasures and desires and wants and needs. Failed to stop the Evanuris. Failed to protect the People. He sighed again and stared out at the water. “You are right,” he admitted. “It is your mark, your arm, your choice. I will help you with everything I have.” He wasn’t sure what drove him to continue. Some need for her to understand, some devil in him, maybe even the geas. “I did not mean to fall in love with you. It was never what I intended but you… were you. You shouldered a burden that should never have been yours with skill and aplomb. You ruled us with intelligence, humour and…” He smiled slightly. “A sense of exasperation, I believe.” He became a little lost in his thoughts and memories then and what came out of his mouth next was not what he’d intended. “Oh, how Andruil would have adored you. Not since she trapped me after I went hunting her halla has anyone managed to capture me so thoroughly.” The wind felt like it went straight out of Ellana’s chest. If she’d been in a better frame of mind, she probably would have become instantly suspicious about… basically everything that had come out of his mouth. She wasn’t exactly expecting any admissions at the moment - even less though because, admittedly, she was being a bitch. Not that she thought he whole approach up until this point was particularly something that would be shocking to anyone who knew her or anyone who even had a slight inclination that the issues between them (at least for her) were a little less about the Inquisition and a lot a bit more about other things. She knew she had a right to be pissed off. But that didn’t mean she had a right to… well, be an asshole herself. She knew that, rationally and it made her just sort of stand in silence - bright eyes watching as his posture slowly changed, as he just sort of turned away, the words his said flowing into her mind sort of slowly. Like molasses. Or wading through a swamp. The frustration was still there, that wasn’t going to go away - magic wonky truth serum or not. There were too many things for her to be frustrated about for that to happen. But that dire desire to be volatile, to bite back at him, to… she didn’t know, share a little bit of her pain. If she was being honest, it was probably mostly about the pain. “Someone, somewhere, in some damn Chantry is probably still droning on about how I have glorious purpose or something.” She said, a little bit of that exasperation in her voice as she suddenly felt awkward. Damn this island. “And it was somehow my plan to fall in love with you?” She asked, it may not have been an outright admission, but it was more honest of a question than she likely ever would have asked in this moment had there not been a helping hand behind it. “I sort of figured this bullshit was going to kill me at some point, eventually. That made it easy, too damn easy to just go along with the Inquisition. Lead, walk myself right into every fight, whatever. I didn’t exactly foresee a ripe old age of retirement any more. Plus… I was always sort of shit at being Dalish and… I kinda felt at least sort of good at what I was doing once everyone decided I probably shouldn’t be strung up at dawn.” The last bit was definitely something she’d not wanted to say out loud, but it had just sort of happened. “Either way, what happened between us? It wasn’t on my to-do list. But it happened.” She paused, taking a half step towards him. He’d sort of… opened a door of opportunity. Now, of course, he hadn’t really been subtle about some things and she’d kept pretty damn mum about the details of what had happened in the temple and her own, you know, formed opinions on things. Just opinions though, obviously she didn’t have an ounce of proof. Not real proof anyway. “You’re not subtle.” She stated, it was a fact to her at this point - inability to lie or not. “So if you’re going to drone on about Gods, you may as well just confirm what I’ve basically known since the damn temple.” She made another awkward little noise at the end of the sentence, putting all of her effort into holding back actually just stating her opinion. “May as well give me something fun to boast about.” She tacked on quickly, a light joke in her voice - volatile or not, she couldn’t help herself about the periodic jokes and it helped stuff everything down just enough. The Inquisitor was just glad the whole not lying thing apparently didn’t apply to making her as pun-laden as she normally was. Solas chuckled ruefully. “No one ever plans to fall in love, that I will admit.” He glanced over at her. “I tried to turn away but… you walked the Fade in a way I had never seen before.” He looked out at the see and smiled faintly. “I believe that might be termed cat mint to the cat.” He then shrugged. “As for the Chantry… why not let them think that if it can be useful to you?” He shook his head, not wanting to envision a world in which she did not exist and yet, he knew that was what he risked with his plans. A world in which she did not exist, a world in which all of their friends did not exist and yet… how could he stop? When he had destroyed so much? Surely it was his duty to rebuild it, to give back what had once belonged to the elves? He honestly didn’t know. All he knew was what he had sworn to do. If he didn’t have that, what did he have? He felt faintly offended at the implication he wasn’t subtle but then he sighed. He supposed he wasn’t. Mythal had said it to him more than once, usually when she’d turned up to give him disapproving yet faintly amused looks about plans she’d somehow gotten wind of. ‘You are clever, Solas,’ she would say to him. ‘Tricky, slippery and cunning. But not subtle.’ “They’re not gods,” he snapped then he sighed again and turned to face her. He honestly didn’t know if it was the geas that had been behind that or his own age old irritation. He supposed it didn’t matter much and now that the cat was out of the bag, he might as well continue. “Though they would surely like you to think they were. They certainly liked to think of themselves that way.” He shook his head. “That was where the problems started. Or maybe they started long before that, when they felt that leading armies gave them the right to lead people in times of peace.” He dropped the ‘Solas the hedge mage’ stance and stood straight again. “My name is and always has been Solas. My kin gave me the name Fen’Harel. They thought to mock me. I used it against them.” Well, shit. That was something they could agree on - even though it felt a little more painful than she liked that the way he spoke about loving her sort of had a weird tinge of regret to to. Not like… he outright regretted it or anything and not that the honesty wasn’t… nice in its own way. But it hadn’t been two years for it, it’d only been a few months and so it… stung. It made her gulp, hard, at the thought. But with everything else? She’d take the admission for the little bit of warmth it gave her. “And I happen to be a woman who is just spectac-,” She tried to get the word out laden with as much sarcasm as she could muster but the inability to lie had better ideas, “spectacular at making the worst decisions possible. But I-” She gulped, going tense as she knew what was coming next even before the words left her lips, “-wouldn’t take it back.” It was the honest truth. She wouldn’t have, actually, every bone in her knew that she’d go to whatever lengths necessary if it redeemed him in any way shape or form. She didn’t need to be able to see the future or have been told that’s precisely what she did do to now she would. Every bone in her body, every fiber of her being knew that was the truth deep down. It just happened to be something tangible now, now that she’d said it. Ellana tensed again when he snapped at her. She probably could have predicted he’d respond poorly, even if she’d tried to say it with sarcasm. It wasn’t like she wasn’t aware how he felt about the way the Dalish worshiped - it wasn’t like she’d forgotten how it felt to watch him walk away the first time, at least, the first time from her. “It doesn’t matter if they were or not, myths end up being more powerful than the truth in the end.” A little more on the cliche wisdom side of things than she’d normally frame something in, but it wasn’t like it wasn’t true. “The whole damn reason the Inquisition survived, the whole damn reason people… follow me is because I allow the whispers, is because I allow them to think and believe what they want. Its not like I’m sitting here pretending to have magically been a Dalish woman who woke up one day and was suddenly, oh surprise, Andrastian - but I’ve never stopped them.” That probably didn’t make her much better than everyone Solas hated, a least at a surface level. Her motives had, well you know, been a little better. The whole saving the world and killing some asshole fade-demon-wanna-be-god guy. Little better than wanting to be above your own people. At the same time, it wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about it before - it wasn’t like she’d left the Pantheon entirely out of her new vallaslin either. Of course, it wasn’t because she still worshiped them in any way shape or form, but it wasn’t like the change there erased centuries of history of her people. “The Dread Wolf.” She added, her eyes flicking up to meet his. The confirmation was… something else. She’d actually left him out of her tattoo on purpose. Because if her suspicions were right? She thought he probably would have hated being included - which, well, outweighed any opinions of her own on how restoration could be its own redeeming factor. Solas turned at her statement. “No, you have made many good decisions, wonderful decisions. Things I know I could never have done.” He snorted and turned away again, his voice filled with bitter pain and self-loathing. “And no one can do better than I can for making bad decisions. Mine destroy worlds.” Oh, he would have liked to not say that but it was the truth, was it not? Arlathan gone, destroyed due to his foolishness, his mistakes, his rash recklessness and anger. He turned back to her and for a moment, written on his face, was his yearning and pain. “But loving you was never a mistake. I just…” He whirled around, forcing his lips shut on the rest of that truth. He let himself wallow in his pain at letting her go and how much it felt like a mistake. It almost brought him to his knees. He raised his hands to grip hair that he no longer had, that he shaved off due to the depredations of millenia in the Uthenera unprotected by attendants and so no connection could be made between Solas and Fen’Harel, then let his hands drop again. “I should never have let you go,” he whispered, feeling like he was betraying the People for his own wants and desires. He shook his head at what she said. “The situations were different. Seeing you how they wanted wasn’t hurting them, wasn’t hurting you, the Inquisition or the people. Allowing them to delude themselves in order to do what was needed was just good sense. The Evanuris… they became tyrants. Worse than tyrants. Slavers and despots. And if they ever escaped their prison, they would become so again. They would rip the Dalish asunder, each claiming those who wore their mark, uncaring of clan or family bonds. They would not listen to you and any who rebelled would be struck down without thought or care but oh, how they would enjoy being thought of as gods.” He’d seen the tattoos on her face that had replaced the ones he’d removed and part of him despaired but most of him recognised that the markings were nothing like he’d seen from any Dalish before. He wasn’t sure what he felt about it but he suspected his feeling on the matter didn’t matter. It wasn’t a slave marking at least. “Dread wolf,” he said with a snort. He wasn’t sure if it was bitterness or amusement that coloured his voice. Since it was the truth, probably both. “They mocked me with it so I turned it against them.” He began to pace, unable to stop himself even though he knew this geas was driving him more and more back to the Solas he had once been, not the Solas he’d become. “May the Dread Wolf take you was a blessing once,” he said, the words almost bursting out, full of despair and weariness. “It was a plea and a wish and a blessing. May the Dread Wolf take you from this place, free you and see you safe. And I did!” Those last three word sounded plaintive and he stopped and slumped where he stood. “Then I damned us all.” “Why have they been good?” She asked, she was starting to get outside of the… normal scope of her inquisitive personality. “Because you think I did them for the right reason? People have still died because of decisions I’ve made. People have still given up everything. Cities are gone and sure, I made sure a part of what we did was to support people who had no other fucking choice, who had no other fucking chance. I backed the mages because it was the right thing to do - I lucked out that it was something I could fix. And someone died for that fix. I lucked out that it turned out the Templars had been corrupted. What if they hadn’t? I got lucky.” The Inquisitor had never actually said that outloud - even though how lucky she’d gotten had been something that lurked in the back of her mind, it just happened to be one of those things that she’d had a hell of a lot of luck keeping in the back of her mind. No point in jixing it while she could still ride it out. Right now, wasn’t exactly a normal situation. Closing her eyes she reached up, bringing a hand to her hairline and slowly pushing it back over her bright copper braids. “You’re making excuses for things I did that still killed people. I don’t have to have been as bad as them to have abused something I shouldn’t have.” She gave him this little look, it was serious and she knew it. She’d known what she was doing then, allowing people to believe. It had been for the better, she still believed that - what she didn’t believe is that it was somehow magically okay because it had worked out. “I got lucky, Solas. And if you want to be honest… its not like I just, stopped after Corypheus. I probably should have. If I was really being genuine in not letting people get in over their heads I would have. But I think there’s more work to be done. More that people need. But that’s me, and letting them… believe shit that isn’t true. I mean… Solas, I let them think I believe in any of it. That’s fucked up. I’m the leader of what is… a religious organization that I don’t even think has a shred of truth to it. I’m best friends with the fucking Divine. And I believe none of it.” She slowly brought her hand down. This was shit she hadn’t expected to say out loud, not in her wildest dreams. Because it shattered the image. All of it. And she’d cultivated the imagine. She’d allowed things because of her opinions, which maybe made her a bit hypocritical for being so ready to point out that he was working off of his opinions. “And no, you shouldn’t have.” She said - her face still serious as her eyes watched him, staying… searching to look him in the eyes even when he looked away. That was one upper hand she had here. She wasn’t backing down. Not that she ever did. Not that the truth would have instilled that temptation in her either. “The past is part of who we are, but it doesn’t decide our future.” Maker, more fucking platitudes, “I might, vomit if you make me repeat that.” That felt a little more… like her. “But shit is how it is.” She watched him, as he started to pace - she could tell he was upset. He may not have wanted her to know that, but she did. Because, whatever, she loved him and sometimes she felt stupid about that but, she knew where all of this came from and he’d given her the final confirmation, “You fucked up.” She said bluntly, “But that doesn’t have to control your whole existence. You got unlucky, I got lucky. And lucky is killing me.” For whatever silly reason, it was what she believed, the sarcasm in her voice about the whole killing thing aside. It wasn’t like she disagreed that he had damn good reasons to take down the other ‘Gods’, to free slaves… that was all… what any person should have done - and he couldn’t have predicted what the Fade did to mages from then on. Not that she didn’t also know he crossed a line after that. Not that the anchor and the plan and restoring Arlathan was in any way okay, but it all came from a beginning that… she saw reason in. As stupid as that probably was. Solas looked at her curiously. “Of course people died as a result of your decisions. That happens when someone is in a role like yours. But your decisions were the best possible under the circumstances with the information you had at your disposal and with the advice you were given. No one can make decisions that never harm anyone. The only way to do that is to not make decisions at all and that, in and of itself, is also a decision.” He did understand what she was saying, from his own experience he understood it well. “As for luck? Every decision everyone makes every day of their life relies on luck, as much as many would like to deny it. All you can do is hope that your luck is good.” He wanted to walk over, to take her hand, to offer the sort of comfort that he used to. But he’d lost that right when he’d walked away from her, probably before that when he’d broken things off between them without a proper reason. He had no one to blame but himself. “Should you have stopped after Corypheus? Maybe.” He sighed then said wryly as he realised the truth was to be forced out of him whether he liked it or not and maybe it was best to ensure the truth he told was palatable to him.. “But in truth, I am glad you did not. What is to come? I trusted you to be able to handle it in a fashion that would not cause further warfare. Had you disbanded the Inquisition, I would have had to deal with it on my own, for I would not have trusted Orlais or Fereldan to have done so, let alone Tevinter, and that... “ He grimaced. “I would not have been so diplomatic. I do not have Josephine’s skills. It would have mattered little to me but the flow on effects in Thedas… might not have been ideal.” At her blunt words he turned and took a few steps towards the water. He wanted to believe her. He desperately wanted to believe her but his guilt, his shame, made it almost impossible. “I destroyed the People,” he said, his voice low and full of sorrow and guilt. “I took everything from them. Not just Arlathan but their immortality, their magic, their very way of life. I only wanted to save them but instead I destroyed them.” Taking in a deep breath, she huffed, “The deaths don’t bother me. As screwed up as that probably also is. People died because they believed. Whats fucked up is that I let them run into something without knowing all the facts, let them run into something that wasn’t really what it was. And that’s my point, which you seem pretty damn okay with skirting around.” She said a bit harshly. She was trying to keep the frustration back in check, not veer any more towards an outburst or making this emotional when it didn’t have to be. But it was really proving to be hard, because Ellana had… a lot of emotions wrapped up in all of this - the Inquisition, her role in it all, in him. As tempted as she was to make a joke about the hand and karma or something else to cut the tension she was feeling - she managed to choke it back, it wasn’t like she really believed in that sort of fate or anything so it didn’t shock her that she managed to keep that one in when she was dealing with the whole not-able-to-lie bit. How frustrated she was getting was really starting to make Ellana antsy, she didn’t like looking at a problem and not seeing some sort of path towards solving it. Even when a fight got dicey, there was always at least some sort of exit plan. Run into a cave. Hope your shield held up while you tried to get away. Distract with something. Even if she couldn’t fight her way out of a fight, she could figure her way out of it. Right now she was sort of scrambling for resolution here - not because she wanted to go running away. That would definitely be a lie, because somehow fighting with him felt better than not interacting at all - which she’d full admit was definitely stupid and senseless, but it was what it was. “Nobody has Josephine’s damn skills, I’d have been dead ages ago without them.” That was both a joke and the damn truth, the Inquisitor believed every inch of that one at least and not even in the ‘fake your way to believing it’ sort of feeling where it might be an emotional, not a rational belief. Josie’s role in her success was an undisputed fact to Ellana. “No one needs to live forever. Sounds boring.” She figured some days she might be one of a very few who thought that - but the thing was, she sort of fell into the camp where she didn’t see much sense in immortality. How could you really enjoy things living that long anyway? Most of what she’d enjoyed in her life were things she could tie to, you know, decidedly not being immortal. Maybe it was why it was so easy for her to not have faith. To not have her world crumbled by learning about the reality of whatever religion you wanted to pull out of a damn hat in Thedas, it all sort of fell apart once she looked at the pieces. She sure as hell didn’t envy Solas for having to live with guilt and regret for as long as he had, sleep or no sleep. “Oh come on, if humans weren’t so shitty to elves - would you have even half of this regret?” She took a step after him, she could hear the pain in his voice and it stung in an uncomfortable way that made her have to fight herself a lot more than she was comfortable with. It would have been a hell of a lot easier if she just… hated him. “If we hadn’t ended up hiding away, constantly on the move or in alienages - would you actually feel this bad? If it had just meant the end of immortality and all of the abuses that clearly fucking come with it. If it just meant the culture evolved, that the bullshit stopped, if it hadn’t come with all the asterisks assholes decided to add to it.” She hadn’t really meant to say the last part, but it wasn’t like she thought it wasn’t true. Either way, she did honestly want to know. She had decided she was redeeming him come hell or high water, after all. The question was, well, brutally honest - but genuine all the same. Solas snorted. “People will always believe what they want to believe. You could have told them all the facts, given them every bit of information you had, and it wouldn’t have changed as many minds as you think. Do you know how many hours… days… months... I spent talking to people about the Evanuris, trying to convince them that these people they were calling gods were the same people who had lead our armies and before then merely been remarkable? They didn’t listen to me because they wanted to believe the Evanuris were gods. Just as many of those who followed you wanted to believe you were the Herald of Andraste. You are not responsible for their beliefs.” He softened and sighed. “They wanted to believe because they needed to believe. That was what I learned those many millennia ago. For whatever reason, they needed to believe.” And it was only when he gave them a reason not to believe that they began to see what he had always seen so clearly once he’d started looking. Maybe that was why he hadn’t fallen into that trap with the rest of the People - he hadn’t been looking. He’d been busy, pursuing his interests, speaking to the spirits and seeking their wisdom, travelling the land and learning, always learning. He couldn’t even say how long it had been. Hundreds of years certainly, maybe even millenia. Keeping track of time had never been important unless he had a specific reason. By the time he returned to Arlathan… things had changed. He actually blinked, lost for words for a moment for a moment. “It’s not about living forever, it’s about all you can do. All you can learn and see and experience. No need to rush or worry about not having enough time because you have all the time.” He looked up at the sky, the wonder that still existed in his memories colouring his voice. “I have watched stars bloom into being over the course of a hundred years. I have participated in the deep magic, spells that take a thousand years in the casting and last for thousands more. I have spent endless time learning the wisdom of the spirits and seeking teachers so I could master skills just for the pure joy and delight of the mastery.” He knew he was waxing poetic and he could almost hear Mythal laughing in the back of his mind. Not at him precisely but with him because she’d always teased him about his relentless desire for knowledge and experience. And she’d always chided him about not taking his place among the Evanuris, a place that was his if he’d ever wanted it. It was why the Evanuris had never thought to try and kill him when he opposed them, just treated him with exasperation and tried to coax him back to what they thought was his right and proper place with them. He shook his head when she tried to rationalise what he’d done. There was a part of him that knew there was some sense in her words, that wanted to embrace them but… then there was the other part. “The humans wouldn’t have done that if I hadn’t brought down the Veil. If I hadn’t torn the world asunder.” “But then it would have been on them.” The Inquisitor noted, “Not on my choice to hide it from them. You can’t stand here, with how you feel about what… your kin did and act like there’s no difference between if I had been honest or not, act like there’s no difference between the choice with or without the knowledge.” She’d truly thought it better to just be vague, not claim the titles, not do anything that would lead people astray into false hope but it had basically happened anyway. It didn’t matter if Ellana hadn’t made herself or wanted to make herself into a religious figure - she had. Sometimes she sort of hated Hawke for not ‘being available’... but… she also knew that Hawke would have lost even more than she did. He probably would have made a lot of the same decisions - at least when it came to the Mages and the Templars. What would she have been doing with herself anyway? Honestly, not a lot of thought was required to realize she probably would have been dead. Hawke could have lead the armies, been a leader - but he couldn’t have done what she did. Damn that glorious purpose. At the end of the day, even if Hawke had been around - it would have been both of them that suffered then. Now, at least, it was only her. Mostly only her. “I’m a warrior, a hunter.” She laughed, awkward as it was. “You think in terms that don’t even hit the way I look at a problem. Maybe it takes a mage to get it, maybe I’m not book smart enough. I never gave a shit about learning history or sitting around a campfire listening to the Keeper’s stories. Hell, even the way I chose my original vallaslin was just because I felt it was of kinda maybe fit.” She may not have liked stories, but she’d picked June because it… felt right. She liked making her own weapons, making her own armour. She’d enjoyed crafting little arrowheads and daggers when she was a kid - long before she’d gone on her first hunt. Long before she’d really started training. It’d made sense - she hadn’t needed the rest of the lore to make the decision. For her it was just a part of growing up. Ellana had always sort of been shit at being Dalish, anyway. That was why she made the perfect infiltrator, after all. The rest she figured they wouldn’t agree on, but she had to try anyway. She had to. She wasn’t going to drop being hellbent on… whatever. “What was it you said…” She noted quietly, taking a few slow steps forward until she came up to stand next to him - looking out at the water. “ Every decision everyone makes every day of their life relies on luck...” Her voice trailed off for a moment before she looked over at him. “You can’t know the humans wouldn’t have ever made a move. You can’t know that. Its literally impossible - its not like Tevinter has sat around being innocent, lacking in magic.” She let out a slow, shallow breath before she brought a hand up - hovering over his arm in silence for a moment before she let it rest on his bicep, “You can’t actually think you can stand here and spit advice at me and I’m not going to spit it back at you when you try and pull off that it only applies to what I’ve done, and not you.” Even lightly touching him like that felt… she didn’t know. She shouldn’t have done it, but it was too late now to take the little gesture back. Nothing about this was simple but, at the very least she could try and get something, or whatever, through to him. Solas didn’t know how to tell her that it didn’t matter, that not telling people the truth was probably the better path to take. He knew from his own experience that individual people, no matter their background, could be very smart. You could always find a way to explain things to them then answer their questions so that they understood and didn’t panic. But large groups of people? Large groups of people were dumb and stupid. They didn’t mean to be but they were anyway. Something about a group seemed to diminish each individual’s ability to understand and comprehend, even more so when the situation was dire and frightening. Sometimes it was just easier to let people believe what they needed to believe, even if it was dishonest. It was why he’d permitted the slaves he freed to believe he was as much a god as his kin, even though that had rankled more than he cared to admit. It was better to let them believe and slowly correct their thinking, than to dump it all on them at once. He actually chuckled a little and shook his head. “You think I am not a hunter and a warrior myself. You think I can’t pick up a bow and shoot well, that I don’t know how to use sword and daggers? We weren’t just… one thing. There was no separation. We were all mages, we were all hunters and warriors. The Veil did not exist, the Fade wasn’t a separate, frightening thing. We lived in harmony with the spirits and demons…” He snorted. “Were barely a thing. We learned in ways that suited each individual, at each individual’s own speed. I preferred to learn by doing, by seeking out teachers who specialised, whether they were elven or spirit, rather than accepting whatever was available.” He smiled faintly, a little lost in the memories. “I learned to use the bow the hard way because it seemed the most interesting way of doing it. I had someone teach me the basics then I went out and… hunted. I met my wolf friends at that time.” His laugh this time was soft and genuine. “I have never been judged so harshly for my failures as by them. They stole my first several kills because they did not think I deserved them.” He grimaced. “They were not clean kills.” He fell silent when she came to stand beside him and he yearned to take her in his arms, to hold her and just be with her. He felt her presence beside him so strongly that it was almost unbearable to stand and do nothing. “What would you have me do?” he said, sounding old and weary. “Nothing? To just stare at the ruins of my actions and walk away as if I did not care?” Ellana scrunched her face up, frustrated but also a bit playfully perturbed at what he’d said, “Don’t you mock me - you know that’s not what I meant.” She said with a slight huff, pursing her lips. “I know you’re not just what you appear. I know you’re more than an apostate. I know that better than any-” She cut herself off, even if it would have, could have, maybe been true her mind didn’t entirely believe it, so the words fell short quickly and almost in a fumble. “-than most.” She finished. She’d wanted to say anyone but there was a part of Ellana who knew it wasn’t true and didn’t believe it. Ego aside, the words wouldn’t fall from her lips because they couldn’t. It was a little contrary to the almost joking tone she’d taken as she’d said it. It had meant to be a joke, but sort of ended up not being one. That was the truth winning over her ever present, sarcastic veil. She’d finally sort of hit a point in the conversation where she felt trapped - she’d felt almost cornered before, but not quite. Now she just, everything in the Inquisitor’s personality fought against the types of responses she could actually truthfully give at this point. Admitting she loved him, acknowledging her mistakes. Those things were easy when forced to the truth. Talking about how small she was (and she did feel very small right now). Increasing distance between them in other ways, that was more difficult. “I just can’t conceive why someone would ever spend that long doing something.” She admitted, “I chose J-” She cut herself off again, suddenly retracting her hand and audibly choking on the words - biting down on her lip as she shuffled almost awkwardly in place. Shit. Shit. “I made my first weapon myself, my parents didn’t want me hunting yet.” She suddenly interjected, a half-assed plea at sort of just overshadowing what she’d almost said. “I used to find it soothing. Carving a bow. Knapping out an arrow.” It was the truth at least, and not one she really spoke of often. There hadn’t ever been need to. Hadn’t ever been real place to. So she said it because it felt like… the right filler. The right distraction, or whatever. Admittedly, as much as she had been ready to leave - as much as she’d been the right choice to infiltrate, to end up where she had… sometimes simplicity sounded nice. Even if she would have just been complaining about being bored out of her skull if she’d been back there. Taking half a step she turned herself, angled towards him at this 3 o’clock as she let out a frustrated huff. “Do you think I’m asking you to be bored? To just… retire?” She chewed harshly on her lower lip, “I’m asking that… you don’t force it to be ruin. You can’t erase anything, none of it. Its happened. You’ve screwed up.” She clenched her jaw, looking away for a long moment before looking back, “But we’re not in Thedas. I know I wouldn’t be able to sweet talk you into a damn thing there, not any more. But there’s no reason for you to drag that mindset, that guilt, that whatever here.” Of course, she knew her friends wouldn’t see it that way. But of course, Ellana was less than an objective player in this particular role and the island had ‘better’ plans than to allow her to try and cover that up. “And for the record, I’d still believe every word of this there. And I’d still say it again and again. What you’ve done doesn’t have to be what you do. But I think we both know you’re too damn stubborn to actually take that in.” Solas caught the way she cut off her sentence and knew what she had intended to say. He’d almost forgotten about the geas on him until he opened his mouth something other than what he intended came out. “You know better than almost all. Better than most of my kin. Mythal…” He paused and sighed. “Mythal always knew me best but she was one of the few among my kin who did not think of me as an oddity.” Again he heard the way she cut off her words and turned the subject slightly. He remembered what her vallaslin had been and knew what she had intended to say. He paused for a moment then sighed. He knew he dwelled too deep on what his kin had become, the atrocities they committed, their arrogance and conceit, but they hadn’t always been like that. It was why what they had become cut so deep. “June made my first truly good bow,” he said, his voice quiet and almost absent-minded. “It was a gift because he knew I learned and he felt I deserved a truly good weapon. It was beautiful. He even carved wolves into the wood.” He listened to every word she said, he heard it all but it was all but impossible to make himself believe it. He wanted to. He’d tried to. He’d spent nights meditating, consulting with the spirits in the Fade, spirits of Wisdom, of Valor, every kind he could find. He’d had long talks with Cole and he knew he’d disappointed him more than once. Cole didn’t understand why he couldn’t heal Solas’ hurts, why they lingered and festered and Solas didn’t have the words to explain. It frustrated Cole and he’d tried again and again to help. “I want to believe you. I truly do. I just…” He shook his head. “When I last saw you, when you came through the eluvian, chasing after the Viddasala, we spoke. You refused to give up on me.” He gave a soft laugh. “If anyone can convince me otherwise, to find another path, it will be you.” He closed his eyes and drew in a breath before letting it out again slowly. “I know this is not Thedas. I have been trying to set my grief aside. Breck was… a relief in some ways. To be other than I am, to be… ordinary.” Her face was still a little scrunched, just enough to make it obvious she wasn’t making any attempts to pretend in some way that she wasn’t frustrated - though it was for far more complex reasons than just him being far too technical or the inability to lie of course. “Yeah, yeah.” She said a little quietly, “Just don’t mock me for being a little simple in my explanations.” At this point the Inquisitor was maybe a little bit desperate for a place where she could toss in something a little more lighthearted, something that would make it feel more like normal - though as awkward as this felt in the pit of her stomach, there were probably long-term benefits as much as there were in-the-moment downsides. She was starting to get actually, legitimately suspicious he might not be able to lie either. It was way too easy to get him to actually respond to her jabs right now, give her actual answers. It wasn’t that Solas was a liar, but he avoided things with a skill and grace that she was pretty sure she’d never come across before - except maybe in Leliana, who without a doubt was also a master of making sure you only knew what she wanted, maybe with an extra dose of actual lying thrown in. Admittedly, she was a little surprised he actually just sort of went with what she’d said. “I was never really good at bows, I was always better with metal and stone and carving handles.” And obviously, Ellana wasn’t going to pass that up. Even if it was just a chance to talk about something wholly uncomplicated - she could have used a little more of that in her life. And that didn’t just apply to him, it applied to just about everything. Over her time with the Inquisition her life had just gotten more and more complicated so the little simple things? She tended to grab pretty tightly onto those. She figured it was even more reasonable given the current situation. “Well, I was good at shooting them - but I never had the patience for getting the curves right. Now I don’t really have the patience for any of it any more. I acquired a nasty habit of getting anxious if I was just sitting around the older I got.” She laughed lightly, it was simple but true. Just keeping her hands busy wasn’t good enough for her anymore - she tended towards needing to just be doing something all the time. Maybe it was just because she saw too much that needed to be done now, less than it was any change in anything else. The Inquisitor shifted as she listened to him, only just starting to notice that maybe she should have grabbed her jacket off of the ground. It wasn’t exactly a nice fall day out. “That doesn’t surprise me.” She admitted openly, it wasn’t like it wasn’t what she was trying to do right now anyway. “I only know what Varric and Hawke know otherwise.” Of course, be she hadn’t lived it and they hadn’t, you know, been there first hand - she knew there were some gaps. But that made sense, too. Ellana, for obvious reasons, wasn’t entirely keen on any of the details. Chasing people through eluvians? Losing her hand? Everything else? She could pretty easily foresee that being a top three worst days ever and now she just got to anticipate it - joy. Not that that was anyone’s fault, no, that was just another fun thing she figured Atlantis had decided on. Lets pluck the Inquisitor from a point where she just has to stare down a really shitty inevitable future. On the other hand, it sort of only made her want her time here to be more worthwhile. Knowing it sure as hell wasn’t in the cards at home. “Really now.” She said, she wasn’t sure she could believe that - more so, that part of herself was so absolutely against allowing that glimmer of some very silly sort of hope. “I remember seeing someone talk about that, everyone being off somewhere else with wildly different lives and memories.” She glanced down to her feet, laughing softly again, “This island apparently likes to be so complicated it puts even my bullshit to shame.” |