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writing-muse · 7 years ago

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Ma vhenan ma ghilana. Part 16.

Solavellan fanfic with a twist. Complying with the original story but with a few surprises. They will be revealed along the way. ‘Solavellan hell’ is real. Please join me for this story where I try to add my own bits and pieces and ask questions. Also, there will be a slight twist to the main plot. Surprising? Maybe! Expected? Not at all.

“I wish the dwarf was with us.” Dorian muttered to Bull as they sat around the campfire. He was cleaning the dirt from under his nails while Bull was polishing his maul. The Qunari stopped his work to look at the Mage.

“You think he would have helped?”

Dorian shrugged, his worried expression buried in Triss’ back. She sat some distance away from the camp, sipping her tea. Alone.

“I don’t know,” the mage admitted.

“I think the elven apostate would have been a better choice,” Bull remarked.

Dorian shot a glance in his direction. “So you’ve noticed.”

“Yeah,” the big guy admitted. “They try very hard to deny it but there is something going on between them.”

“I thought it was like a big thing between them. With all the looks he gives her.” The human mused.

“He’s hiding something, that’s for sure. But he cares about her.” The Qunari laid down his maul and took off his boots. His feet were cold and wet as everything else due to the constant rain. “Argh, this place is horrible. I don’t mind rain but this constant wetness in the air just gives me chills.”

“You’re not complaining about the never ending trail of undead?” Up till now the Warden sat quietly to the side. His coat was off and he was trying to warm his toes.

“The undead are fine, I mean, to kill. It’s the weather that sucks.” Bull admitted with a wide grin. “It would be great if someone shared their flask with us. It may turn out to be actually not so dreadful then.” He grinned even more widely in the Mage’s direction.

Dorian rolled his eyes but procured the flask and passed it to Bull.

“Shall I go and talk to her?” He asked after a few moments of quiet which was filled with appreciating gasps over the fine liquor from both of his companions.

“Maybe she needs some time to herself,” Blackwall suggested.

“She had a lot of time to herself. I think too much time, actually.” Dorian stretched his arms and then covered himself more firmly with his coat. Bull ran his eye appreciatively over his form but did not comment.

“She’s been extremely quiet these last couple of days, that’s true. That shit in Redcliffe must have been tough on her.” Bull remarked looking over at her form. She was still sitting near the lake, in the rain, holding to the cup of, by now, a cold tea.

“You have not seen her in Redcliffe. When she saw the others sick and oozing red… it was horrible but she held it together. And then she saw Solas and… well... just fell apart. Both of them actually. It’s like the tam that held all the emotions broke down and this was a drop too much.”

“Solas? Falling apart?” Bull mused. “This, I’d like to see.”

“He’s always so calm and composed. It’s unnerving sometimes.” Blackwall remarked.

“Yeah… so for him to fall part…it must be something.” Bull checked his gauntlet and sighed seeing a few new dents. He should have accepted the new armour the Herald offered him. He didn’t want to wear it here though preferring to check it upon their return. Now he decided it wasn’t a good idea to wait.

“Maybe I should not have said anything,” Dorian commented standing up and walking closer to the fire. He stared at the flames for awhile, being oblivious to the look the Qunari was giving him.

“Nah, you’re worry about her. Like we all.” Bull smiled when Dorian looked at him. “But I think they need to figure it out for themselves. They need to talk. And I have not seen them talking since Redcliffe.”

“You’re not with her all the time, though.”

“No. But I saw her either running around Haven with the herbs or training with Cullen’s soldiers or helping Harrit with armours. And it was only three days before we left.”

“You may be right.” Dorian admitted. “I have seen her passing by to see Adan but she walked away when Solas called after her.”

“Then she’s been avoiding him.” Blackwall grunted.

“Seems like it.” Dorian agreed, his eyes glued to the flames. “Maybe they should talk after we’re back from here.”

“Yes, that would be preferable.” The Qunari grunted and wiggled his toes.

��You’re overthinking this’, I told her. Triss has been worried too much now. The stress and the emotions were running through her and instead of dealing with them she chose to deny them. I would not let them to consume her.

I know what I need to do. I don’t need your help in this matter.

‘You are running away. Hiding behind duty and tasks to fill your time. You’d be better to face him and the consequences.’

Do you even know… how frustrating that is? Oh yes, you probably do know!

‘I know you have feelings for him. Deeper than you are ready to admit.’

The feeling of uneasiness and frustration ran through her but she held her tongue. The cold tea mug got deposed on the ground next to her wet feet. She put the blanket closer around her. It did not keep the rain from making her wet or shiver all over. She needed to get under a roof to get at least a small amount of heat.

‘Go back to camp and change your clothes. You should not get sick but I would not chance it.”

She snickered but got up and walked back to camp. The empty mug dangled from her frozen fingers.

“Ah, I’m glad you decided to join us,” Dorian’s happy grin lighten his face when he greeted her.

She chuckled at him. “Thanks. I’ll go to change. I think I am wet.” And she disappeared in a tent.

“That’s exactly what a man loves to hear from his lady,” Blackwall’s soft comment made the others laugh.

“I bet that’s what the elf would love to hear from her,” Bull admitted quietly and winked at Dorian. “You think he would like to?”

Dorian checked the content of his flask only to discover it being empty. “I’m sure he would. He is a man and has his needs after all. Like all of us.” He sighted. Here it went his back-up plan on keeping himself warm. Now, he would have to rely solely on his magic to keep the chill out. And the rain. And the wetness. And the wind. He sighed again.

“We’ll welcome your assistance,” Triss informed the big Avvar warrior when he requested to join the Inquisition. Then he turned away and started walking to their camp.

“Wait!” She shouted. “You may as well help us with escorting our soldiers.” The warrior nodded and once she checked on her companions they all went back to the Inquisition camp.

The journey back to camp was about defending the wounded soldiers and fighting the ever-spawning spirits. Dorian noticed that Triss gritted her teeth too many a time to be comforting. She pushed forward and fought every enemy but her heart was not in it. This needed to be addressed. Luckily, in that old Grey Warden cache they found old artefacts along with a few bottles of fine Antivan wine. Not his favourite but it would do.

At the camp the soldiers had put a makeshift roof above it so the camp get a bit drier than on their previous visit. The Avvar warrior was currently sharing a bottle with the Qunari who was telling him about one of his adventures with the Chargers. Blackwall went aside to check on their equipment and was trying to make sure everybody got weapons according to their skills. The freshly arrived soldiers brought many supplies which were dearly needed in this place. Many of them were to stay here to make sure that nobody got the same idea as the Avvar chief’ son. Dorian used this moment to navigate around the camp and evading the ever working Inquisition soldiers to get to Triss. The others were giving her a wide berth talking in hushed whispers about what she can do once she sets her mind to it. He could not deny that they mirrored his own thoughts. Her resolve and willingness to assist others seemed to be boundless. And yet, he recognised that others saw her as a figure and not a person; scared and struggling. He saw that in Redcliffe and he vowed to himself that he would make sure to do everything in his power to keep her from harm.

“Ah, there you are.”

Triss spared him a glance from above the book she was reading. Her feet were extended towards the fire. Her clothes were mostly dried by now. She took the mug filled with wine without a single question. This bode well.

“I was curious what you thought about this.” He admitted sitting next to her. He was trying to make her feel comfortable to breach the subject of the apostate without any of the soldiers overhearing them. There was no need for more gossips.

“Do you need anything?” She asked tilting her head. She closed her book and put it in her lap.

“Just wanted to talk. That’s all.”

“Of course.” She nodded while staring into the fire.

“It’s good we got them all alive. It will help the morale.” He nodded towards the soldiers sitting at the edges of the camp and cleaning their armour and weapons. He could see Blackwall moving between them. It seemed that the Warden was accustomed to giving orders and caring after those under his command.

“Yes.” That all she said before drinking half of the wine.

“You know I am a good listener once you’ve decided to talk to me,” he supplied quietly. “I know that Redcliffe is bothering you but I’m here. Whatever you need.”

She flinched at the word Redcliffe. Then she drank the rest of the wine and passed him the mug for a refill. Which he did diligently. He decided not to stop her tonight. Maybe that’s what she needed. His eyes caught Bull’s eye and the big guy nodded almost imperceptibly at them. Damned Ben Hassrath. He met enough of them in Minrathus to be wary; and yet here was the embodiment of their power; a big and impossibly skilled spy for the Qunari. Why she decided to accept his help was beyond his comprehension. Maybe she did not realise the extent of their skills? Oh well, this issue will need to wait. There was something else he needed to talk about tonight.

“What I need Dorian is to forget about it. Not to talk more.” Her voice was strained and hoarse.

‘Da’len, you need to talk about it.’

Fuck off. I don’t.

‘Since when do you swear?’

Since now. Fenedhis woman, get lost. I’m trying to get drunk so I don’t have to think about this. And…

“…with you here it’s difficult to forget.”

“I’m sorry to bring back those memories but…”

She sighed. She did it again. Said things she thought out loud. Closing her eyes made her head spin a bit. Good. She needed to let go for a moment. A bit of elfroot would have helped. She should have taken a supply from the camp but it was usually Solas who had a bit of it on him so… Fenedhis, her thoughts returned to him again. How was she to forget about the red lyrium and that horrible possible future if she keeps seeing it oozing from her friends and killing them slowly?

‘Just let go.’

Easy to say.

‘Let go da’len. You’ll be fine.’

She took a long deep breath. “It’s not your fault Dorian that I keep thinking about Redcliffe,” she admitted playing with the half full mug. “Everybody who was there actually reminds me of it. Of what I could lose if I do not follow through. If I fail. And it seems that I do not try to forget about it.” The rest of the wine was drown in one go from her mug. Its empty content shoved towards the Mage. He picked up the new bottle and filled the mug. And then his own.

“I’m scared that I will fail. And then I’m scared that I will not. If that makes sense? What if we discover that there is something more to it? Just like Cassandra said, we need to find who is responsible for it and end them. But they may be something a bit more what we anticipated. And I guess… I’m scared of finding exactly that.”

“I would take small steps first. Maybe trying to survive tonight first, then come back to Haven and then move to the next thing? If you concentrate on big things they may be overwhelming but if you take small steps they may actually be feasible and easier to digest?”

She sighed. “You don’t know what-“ her voice failed her.

A few moments of silence stretched between them. The soldiers were laughing and exchanging jokes and bottles. Cheery that they survived. Grateful.

“What did he do?” Dorian’s voice reached her ears.

“He didn’t want to hear about what’s happened. He said he knew enough to be sure that he would not survive without me being here. He didn’t want to-know about…how he-“ she willed her tears to subside. Took a few sips of the wine before continuing. “-he didn’t care. As if it was nothing what we witnessed.”

“Vishante kaffas,” Dorian muttered under his breath. No wonder she had a hard time after Redcliffe. The person who was holding her hand and encouraging her throughout their escape from the Redcliffe castle; the person who looked at her with such tenderness and love was gone; to be replaced by the cold bitchy apostate who can stick a stick up his arse! Kaffas! That was it! He was to have a few words to say to that elf, that’s for one. Maybe also treat him to a fireball or something.

“I know that for him it’s just a possibility… but for me it was real. So real, Dorian. I just can’t-” her voice wavered again, “I can’t simply forget it. And the way he behaved. I remember every second of it. Every single gesture and word. And he-he simply doesn’t want to hear about it. I just,” she sighed and put the mug on the ground, “don’t know what to think anymore.”

Dorian was studying her for a long while. An Elven young woman, clearly intelligent and committed to the cause, working hard to achieve the goals, with good heart and cheerfulness so unlike any elves he met. There was kindness to her, a warmth which attracted others to her. And a beautiful smile and glint in her eye.

She barely was the same after Redcliffe. So, the only way to restore her was to convince the apostate to listen. That’s all she needed. For him to take a moment of his ‘precious’ time and listen to her. If not, Dorian was the one to tell him. His mind. Oh yes. They were returning to Haven after all. And then, he would have a few especially selected words to share with Solas.

That was the plan. And if Dorian decided on something… it usually happened.

previous chapters on AO3

#ma vhenan ma ghilana #follow your heart #triss lavellan #triss #solas #solavellan #lavellan #17102017 #writing #my writing

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