#also just the sea as an archival gap is such a fascinating thing to think about

[quatregats]

Many thoughts about the sea as a space.....

From “‘Violent and Not Quite Modern?’: Lascars and Everyday Resistance Across the Sail–Steam Divide” by Naina Manjrekar (2019) and Crossing the Bay of Bengal by Sunil Amrith (2013)

[correspondencearchive]

2. Natalia Nakazawa & Nazanin Noroozi

Natalia Nakazawa and Nazanin Noroozi discuss their use of archives and photographs, creating hybrid narratives, cultural transmission, and the formation of personal and cultural memories.

Natalia Nakazawa, Obtrait I, Jacquard woven textile, 71 x 53 inches, 2015, Photo credit: Jeanette May

Natalia Nakazawa: First off, Naz, how are you doing? There has been so much going on - it is far too easy to forget we have bodies. We have families, we have things we need to do, and we need to take care of ourselves. As they say, put the oxygen mask on first, and then help others. Can you maybe start by just telling us what your day looks like? What are you doing to take care of yourself?

Nazanin Noroozi: I’m doing ok. I have to balance my day job and my studio time. My day job is working in high-end interior design firms in which our clients spend millions and millions of $$$ on luxury goods. It is very interesting to look at the wage gap especially considering the pandemic. When someone can spend 40k on a coffee table for their vacation house, and you hear all the issues with the stimulus checks etc, it makes you wonder about our value system and how our society functions.

As for self-care, I guess just like any other artist, I buy tons of art supplies that I may or may not need! I just bought a heavy-duty industrial paper cutter that can cut a really thick stack of paper! I needed it! I really don't have room for it, but I bought it! So that is my method of self-care! Treat myself to things that I like but may be problematic in the future. ;)

Natalia: I recently re-watched Stephanie Syjuco’s Art21 feature online where she talks about having to actively decide to become a citizen of the US, despite having come to this country at the age of 3. One of the poignant points she brings up is how we are all reckoning right now with what it means to be “American”. She also brings up the iconic photo taken by Dorothea Lange  of a large sign reading “I am an American” put up by a Japanese American in Oakland right after the declaration of internment - thinking about how citizenship can be given or taken away. This all feels very relevant right now. What do you think about these questions? How do you use archives and photos of our past to engage in these issues of belonging, citizenship, and the precarity of it all?

Nazanin: What I try to do with archives is to question them as modes of cultural transmission and historical memory. I think many artists deal with archives in a more clinical and objective manner, whereas I like to add my own agency to these found photographs. When one looks at a family album or found footage, one is already looking at fragmented narratives. You never know a whole story when you look at your friend’s old family albums. I truly embrace this fragmented, broken narrative and try to make it my own. I also constantly move back and forth between still and moving images, printmaking and painting, experimental films and artist books. So there is this hybridity in the nature of found footage itself that I try to activate in my work. In these works handmade cinema is used as a medium to re-create an already broken narrative told by others, sometimes complete strangers to tell stories about trauma and displacement. That is what fascinates me about archives. The fact that you can recreate your story and make a new fictional alt-reality.

Nazanin Noroozi, Self Portrait

Natalia: But who is to say these if fictional alt-realities are less important or less serious than purely “art historical” narratives? One of the things that I am exploring in my work is giving space for slippages in memory, rearranging of timelines to accommodate a lived experience. What happens when we look at collections - even museum collections - with the same warmth, tenderness, and care that we would an old friend? What possibilities are dislodged there? What benefit is there to towing the status quo - which is built on white supremacy, stolen artifacts, and other types of lying, exclusion and dubious authoritative storytelling? Also, there are so many family histories that often become reified - being told and retold with certainty over and over again. How do we claim agency from that oppressive knowledge? The things we tell ourselves about our families may not be “true” so what do we risk by revisiting our archives and re-telling those histories through our current eyes? When we re-examine the history - we may discover new ways of seeing and being with ourselves.

Nazanin: I like to think of photographs as sites of refuge. When you look at a photograph of a kid’s birthday from many years ago, you know for fact that this joyous moment is long gone. These mundane moments that bring you “happiness” and security won't last. It’s like “all that is solid melts into air”. In a larger picture, isn't everything in life fragile and fleeting and there is absolutely no certainty in life?  For example, look at how Covid has changed our “normal everyday” life. A simple birthday party for your kid was unimaginable for months. In “Purl” and “Elite 1984”  I mix these mundane moments with images of flood, natural disasters and other forces of nature to talk about fragile states of being and ideas of home. I digitally and manually manipulate footages of a stormy Caspain Sea, Mount Damavand or a glacier melt to ask my questions about failure or resistance, you know? I let the images tell me the new narrative, both visually and thematically.  

Something I find really interesting in your work is how you re-create these alt-realities by actively and physically engaging your audience into participating in your work, like your textile maps - called Our Stories of Migration? Do you have any fear that they may tell a story you don't like? Or take your work to a place that you didn't anticipate? How do you deal with an open-ended artwork that is finished but it needs an audience to be complete?

Natalia Nakazawa, Our Stories of Migration, Jaquard woven textiles, hand embroidery, shisha mirrors, beetle wings, beads, yarn, 36 x 16 feet, 2020, Photo credit: Vanessa Albury

Natalia: I am always stunned by the generosity of the people I meet - those who dive in and share their own histories - and I think it points to a universal need of ours to share and connect. There is always potential to create intimacy - even within the walls of large institutions, such as schools or museums - when our own lives are placed at the center with care and concern. I’ve never heard a story that didn’t make me pause and grant me more space for contemplating the complexity of being a human on this planet. We have all kinds of mechanisms for memory - archives, written diaries, photos, paintings, objects - but at the end of the day they are nothing without our active participation. Quite literally they are meaningless unless they are being interacted with. That has been the entry point for me, as an artist and educator. How do we take all of these things that exist in the material world and make sense out of them? What does the process of “making sense” do to the way we live TODAY? Or, perhaps, how we envision the future? It is almost like a yoga practice, a stretching of the mind, a flexibility to think backwards and forwards - that lends us more space to consider the present.

Nazanin: Yeah! I think you really are on point here! I think we really can't understand our existence without retelling the history and recreating new realities.

Nazanin Noroozi, The Rip Tide

Natalia: Thank you, Nazanin! Anything coming up for you that you want to mention?

Nazanin: Yes, I am actually doing a really amazing residency at Westbeth for a year. This is an incredible opportunity as I get to live in the Village for one year and have a live-work space in such an amazing place. Westbeth is home to many wonderful artists!

Natalia Nakazawa, History has failed us...but no matter, Jacquard textiles, laser cut Arches watercolor paper, vinyl, jewels, concentrated watercolor and acrylic on wood panel, 40 x 90 inches, 2019, Photo credit: Jeanette May

Natalia Nakazawa is a Queens-based interdisciplinary artist working across the mediums of painting, textiles, and social practice. Utilizing strategies drawn from a range of experiences in the fields of education, arts administration, and community activism, Natalia negotiates spaces between institutions and individuals, often inviting participation and collective imagining. Natalia received her MFA in studio practice from California College of the Arts, a MSEd from Queens College, and a BFA in painting from the Rhode Island School of Design. She has recently presented work at the Arlington Arts Center (Washington, DC), Transmitter Gallery (Brooklyn, NY), Wassaic Project (Wassaic, NY), Museum of Arts and Design (New York, NY), and The Metropolitan Museum of Art (New York, NY). Natalia was an artist in residence at MASS MoCA, SPACE on Ryder Farm, The Children’s Museum of Manhattan, Wassaic Project, and Triangle Arts.

www.natalianakazawa.com @nakazawastudio

Nazanin Noroozi is a multimedia artist incorporating moving images, printmaking and alternative photography processes to reflect on notions of collective memory, displacement and fragility. Noroozi’s work has been widely exhibited in both Iran and the United States, including the Immigrant Artist Biennial, Noyes Museum of Art, NY Live Arts, Prizm Art Fair, and Columbia University. She is the recipient of awards and fellowships from the Artistic Freedom Initiative, Elizabeth Foundation for the Arts, NYFA IAP 2018, Mass MoCA Residency, North Adams, MA and Saltonstall Foundation for the Arts Residency, NY. She is an editor at large of Kaarnamaa, a Journal of Art History and Criticism. Noroozi completed her MFA in painting and drawing from Pratt Institute. Her works have been featured in various publications and media including BBC News Persian, Elephant Magazine, Financial Times, and Brooklyn Rail.

www.nazaninnoroozi.net @nazaninnoroozi

[dragonrajafanfiction]

The Greenland Incident

The post I typed up got deleted on Reddit (!!!) So I’m reposting here. :)

It’s a bit long but has the story written from professor Schneider’s POV. Enjoy!

This is taken from Dragon Raja III: Part I Chapter: Shadows of Greenland.

Schneider took off the oxygen mask and moved his face into the light. Even as he smoked cigarettes, he was on oxygen. When removing the oxygen mask, he will carefully hide his face in the shadow so this is the first time Manstein saw Ned's (Schneider's) face. It's a horror movie mask. The face is a nightmare, the flesh and blood under the eyes are completely dry, only a layer of dry skin is stuck to the bone, the lips and nose are atrophied, and the front teeth are directly exposed.

"It's ugly isn't it? Actually, I am only 37 years old this year but I have the half century old face of a mummy. When the students hear my cough, they think I am an old man in my 50s. But I am even younger than you." Schneider said, self-deprecating.

Manstein shivered slowly: "How can this be?"

"This is the mark left by a mission," Schneider said. "That was 11 years ago, when we first heard a heartbeat signal from the deep sea."

"This (The Japan sea mission) is not the first time we have found embryos in the sea?" Manstein was taken aback.

"No, No. Eleven years ago, that was in Greenland. We found a similar embryo." Schneider spit out a complete smoke ring. "You might have guessed it. I was talking about the  unresolved case in the Greenland Ice Sea. The dive team was annihilated, but the school board ordered all files to be sealed and the investigation was forcibly terminated. If you want to hear this story, you have to be patient, because this story is very long, and please order Norma (EVAs human personality) to leave this room. You with a black card now, you can do it."

"Why should Norma leave?"

"Because Norma doesn't know. The so-called top secret cannot be stored in the system or the drives. It can only be stored here." Schneider tapped on his forehead. "After listening to this story, you can't say a word. You can't even write a memo for yourself. This is a rigid rule of the college. You can only remember every detail I said firmly as far as you can. If you forget it, there's no remedy."

"What happened 11 years ago, can you still remember every detail of it now?"

"Of course, I can." Schneider said quietly. "That was the only trip to hell in my life. How could I forget?"

The icy cold permeated from Schneider's words. Manstein felt that when he mentioned something that happened 11 years ago, the ugly and powerful man in front of him ignited his anger, an anger restrained for 11 years.

"Norma, leave this room and leave the two of us alone for a while." Manstein said.

"Understand that, starting now, the central control room will be outside of my monitoring range for 15 minutes." Norma said.

All the equipment n the central control room stopped running, the cameras and recording equipment were locked, and the lights went out one by one. Norma left and the surveillance was lifted. At this moment, the central control room was independent of the campus, and the shadows of the trees swayed on the high windows, which looked like the depths of an ancient church.

"It was the autumn of 2001...." Schneider slowly began to narrate.

"It was the autumn of 2001. A person with the ID named 'Prince' posted a message on the Internet saying that his tugboat had caught strange bronze fragments deep in the Greenland Sea. He posted a photo and it seemed that there were some intricate ancient characters on them. These characters were completely consistent with the 'Ice Sea Bronze Column Tablet' secretly collected by the college."

"The Ice sea Bronze Pillar Tablet is considered to be a rare artifact that has been passed down from the Dragon Age to today. It once stood in the dragon-kin built cities. The dragons are accustomed to using pillars to record their history and the center of the city is always a huge pillar standing upright. However, the icy sea copper column tablet is only a part of a column that had broken and it is estimated that it is less than a third of its original length. It is the most detailed dragon text material that humans have found to today, recording the war history of the dragon clan, but we still can't interpret it because there is no text for comparison. Those texts are just meaningless patterns for us."

"I was just a young assistant professor at the time, keen to interpret Dragon Words. I think if there is another copper pillar in the depths of the Greenland Sea, then the comparison of the above text may be able to interpret the true history of dragons. So I contacted the 'Prince' anonymously, saying that we were an ancient writing research institute and hoped to purchase these fragments."

"At that time, someone offered an amazing price, but the Prince expressed that he was willing to donate the fragments to research institutions instead of selling them to merchants. He sent the fragments to us without taking any money, and attached the coordinates of where he found them. We immediately sent an elite team to scan the seabed with sonar. We originally hoped to find a huge pillar on the seabed, but we caught a strange heartbeat signal right on the seabed."

"The Greenland Ice Sea is not as deep as the Japanese Trench. Large animals like beluga and tiger sharks live in it. So we didn't think it was a dragon embryo at first. But we observed it for several months. Nothing moved. We had to focus our attention from the pillar to the heartbeat signal. This was too strange. If the thing is a whale or a shark, then it should hunt around. If it is a giant turtle of unknown species, but dormant, then its heartbeat shouldn't be so strong. 

Someone put forward an amazing idea, that is: it is the embryo of a dragon. The seabed is its burial ground, it has experienced death, and cocooning and then reviving turned it into a fetal state. It is undergoing a long incubation.

"The idea was too bold, but the heartbeat signal was too strange and too tempting. Everyone of us was fascinated by this speculation. Since the establishment of the Secret Party, we have only received one dragon embryo, which is a weak one out of three generations. Dragon blood lines are already weak. If we can get a strong embryo, analyzing it can help us learn more about this ancient life."

"So you decided to dive?" Manstein asked.

"No, we weren't so rash. Because everything is just guessing. The safest way before a human goes is to send out a remote controlled submersible to survey the area. But whenever the underwater robots approached the seabed, they would lose control. We recovered the underwater robots and found that their circuits somehow burned up. This added to the evidence that the thing on the seabed was an embryo of a dragon. When an elder dragon is said to be in the process of incubation, a certain field will be developed to protect themselves. People who step into this field will have fatal hallucinations. Biologically speaking, the hallucinations are all because the cerebral cortex is stimulated, and the cerebral cortex is most easily stimulated by an electrical current."

"So the electric field of embryos burned the robot's circuits?" Manstein said.

"We thought so. We didn't want to send people to dive. If it is indeed the embryonic field that burned down those robots, then the impact on the cerebral cortex would be terrible. Even though all my students are A pedigree, I'm still not sure if they can fight against the field of embryos. In the hallucinations created by dragons, only the most powerful hybrids can maintain self-awareness. Any gap in the psychological defense line will be crushed by the hallucination. This has been recorded in the archives of the secret party." Schneider said. "But this time the school board intervened. They ordered us to dive as soon as possible to confirm the target. Their reason was that we could not wait for the embryo to hatch. At that time, even if it was risky, we had to act."

"Diving was the decision of the school board?"

"Yes. Today they sent you to stop the Caesar Team Embryo dive, but they were the creators of the Greenland plan back then."

"Under pressure, we made a dive plan. We purchased the most advanced diving bell from Germany at the time. It was a kind of all-metal diving equipment. Metal is an  excellent conductor. It can form an electrostatic barrier and should weaken the embryo field. Everyone in the dive team was to wrap their whole body with a fine metal mesh and took nerve tranquilizers orally. They are all the best hybrids. We thought they should be able to resist the interference in the embryonic field after they were fully armed. There were six people in the group. If one person had a problem the other five could force him to evacuate. In order to kill the dangerous embryo we also made a special underwater rifle for the dive team, using bullets polished by the Philosopher's Stone which is lethal to dragons."

"Although they were going to perform a dangerous mission, the students were still excited. Young people are fearless and they had the opportunity to get lose to a dragon embryo, which was as exciting as the opportunity to visit the Kingdom of God."

The weather was unexpectedly good on the day of the dive. The six members of the dive team went down on three diving bells. I provided support on the ice. At first, everything went smoothly, the ocean current was calm. The marine life was calm. They even observed beluga whales. But when the depth reached 170 meters, the leader of the dive team suddenly yelled in surprise in the communication channel, saying that they saw a gate. This is very strange because the seabed in that area is 300 meters deep, and their depth is 170 meters, which means that they are still 130 meters from the bottom. Visibility was very low. But at this point, they saw this gate. Is there a gate suspended in the middle of the sea?

"I became alert and worried that they had strayed into the embryonic field and had begun to have hallucinations. They excitedly discussed the gate in the communication channel. This is completely against the rules of communications. They should not talk about it in the communication channel. This channel is for essential communication only to avoid misunderstandings. I loudly ordered them not to approach the gate. I wasn't sure if it really existed but my instinct told me that the gate should not be opened."

"But they completely ignored my orders. I only heard their hurried muttering and strange noises. It was like someone was breathlessly reading a certain scripture in a deep well. Then the team leader spoke and yelled, "The gate is open! The gate is opening!" Then, "No! Don't Go in!"

"Then the gunshots were heard, loud. I could hear them paddling and the sound of their respirators. They had left the diving bell and were fighting with something. The situation was very chaotic. Someone shouted in the channel but because of the current interference, I couldn't hear what they said."

"I originally told the diving team not to leave the diving bell, because the electrostatic barrier in the diving bell is their important protection, but why they violated my order... there's no perfect explanation. After five minutes, the communication was cut off. We could no longer receive signals from the depths of the ice sea. I decided to forcibly recover the diving bells. Those diving bells are connected to the ice breaker with safety lines. However, we recovered the safety lines, only to find that the safety lines were cut with diving knives. The cuts, judging from the fibers, were made by the diving teams own knives. They cut the safety lines themselves."

"I was frantic and decided to dive down to rescue them. There were no more bells, but I was confident in my physical fitness. I could dive to 300 meters without protective gear. I could dive to 170 on one breath. When I reached the waters where the incident occurred, there was no gate nor were their corpses. The water was clear with no trace of blood, even though I clearly heard the gunshots in the communication channel. At that time, the surrounding water temperature had dropped below zero. It was so cold that any disturbance in the water would form ice crystals."

"I then noticed something behind me that had been silently swimming with me!" "The predator was so cautious to keep itself from being discovered by me. But the super cold seawater was  formed a thin film of ice in front of me and it reflected the light on my diving helmet. I saw its dark shadow in the thin ice, just like the totem on an ancient mural. It was slender, its long and thin tail swung slowly in the sea, like a butterfly in flight. I heard a sound and my spotlight stopped working from the cold and I was surrounded in completely darkness. I thought I was going to die. The embryo had hatched. It killed my students! It was behind me but I can't do anything about it."

"Desperation brings out courage. So I remembered that I was still holding my underwater rifle. All the special ones were handed over to the dive team. I only had an ordinary one filled with ordinary bullets. But I can't sit and wait for death. So I turned and took a shot in the dark."

"I then saw blood. I had actually hurt it!"

"How can an ordinary rifle harm a dragon? That thing was only used by divers to kill sharks and can't even kill a large shark. And you were too far down for it to work effectively." Manstein said.

"I can't answer that, but there was a strong smell of blood penetrating the seals of my helmet. I wasn't injured. The dragon was." Schneider said.

"I could clearly feel it right in front of me. I and the injured dragon are facing each other in the dark, very close. But I still couldn't see it."

"It hissed at me and in an instant my oxygen mask shattered into pieces, and the cold current rushed into my air supply carrying with it, the dragon's blood. I lost consciousness."

"My companions heard my screams and brought me back up from the water with a safety cable. When the water rushed out, I was frozen in a piece of the sea ice weighing several tons. Like a fish frozen at a market."

"Fortunately, the rescue helicopter arrived in a few minutes. After I woke up, the doctor said that I had suffered from the extreme cold. I danced with the god of death and inhaled that cold air it breathed out at minus 200 degrees. It necrotized my face, the temperature of my brain dropped and my blood was frozen. My chance of survival should have been non-existent."

"The doctor tried his best and managed to save my tongue. But I must wear an oxygen mask at all time, and change the plastic trachea every two or three years, otherwise my respiratory system will fail and I will die."

"I used to love hand rolled cigarettes, but this box of shredded tobacco is what I have left over from 11 years ago and I haven't finished smoking it. I only roll one cigarette occasionally to smoke when I am reminiscing about that period. I remember the past more clearly. I assure that every detail I said is true, because I dare not forget. These memories are painfully carved into my mind."

"We were unable to successfully capture or kill that dragon. It is still alive, hidden in the deep sea of the world, looking for opportunities to surface. A few hours after the incident we used diving robots to explore again. The fish disappeared quietly in the ice sea and no trace was found. We explored the seabed but did not find embryos or copper pillars, as if everything we experienced was just a nightmare that disappeared when we woke up. A few years later, a marine minding company found a wealth of manganese in the seabed and build an offshore mining platform. Today there are thousands of marine miners working there. Nothing supernatural happened again, until not long ago, we observed exactly the same heartbeat signal deep in the Japanese Trench."

[skipping down because they talk about other things]

"Only one in 100,00 people can evolve safely after being in contact with the blood of an elder dragon. I was actually one of the lucky ones. I was able to survive the bottom of the sea because it had already begun to increase my potential. But I am not a person who is fully able to accept dragon blood. My body is riddled with holes. strengthening me while destroying me. I have endured the pain for 11 years. The most likely in the college to turn into a Death Servitor is not Chu Zihang, but me."

"I'm not afraid to dive, but my body can't bear it. Now sitting in front of you is a dying patient. Were it not for the dragon blood's corruption, I would have died already."

"Does the principal know?"

"He knows. The college has formulated a special medical plan for me. I change my blood every year, but the dragon blood can never be cleared. I'm not sure how much longer I have left." Schneider knocked on his heart. "I have an explosive device the size of a pacemaker right next to my heart. Once I lose control, it will explode. I will suddenly fall to the ground and it will not be of any trouble to you."

"Must you be so cruel to yourself?" Manstein whispered.

"People who are cruel to others must learn how to be cruel to themselves. Otherwise they are just cowards." Schneider said slowly, "many people think that I would never perform assignments after the Greenland incident. That I would shrink back into my research. Because of that incident, I lost six students and I am the way I am now. They thought that a person who survived hell should value their life all the more."

"But I chose to be the director of the executive department. I am the last member of the Greenland team. Those young people whose lives were blooming like flowers died. And I survived. If I were a stupid coward, wouldn't that be ridiculous?"

[thelastmorozova]

Stealth Mode Engage

I utterly forgot to post this little Solavellan oneshot I did a few weeks back. *Insert SHAME GIF*

Title: Stealth Mode Engage

Pairing: Solas/Lavellan

Tags: All the fluff and shenanigans

Summary:

Aevella Lavellan practices her stealth abilities on Solas. It's just unfortunate that he keeps on catching her.

You can read this on my Archive of our Own account also

“I know you're there, Aevella.”

“No I'm n- damn it.” Shoulders slumped, Aevella stepped from within the shadows with a grumpy look marring her face. “How do you catch me every time? Stealth mode is supposed to be... well... stealth mode! What am I doing wrong?”

Solas didn't look away from his book, merely moving onto the next line. “Because you are very easy to catch.”

Aevella stopped behind his seat and scoffed. “Are you saying that I have big feet?” “As far as I'm aware, you have moderately sized feet.” He made to turn the page, but with lightning swiftness Aevella snagged the tome from his hands and slammed it down upon the tabletop where the resounding bang echoed around the rotunda.

“Tell me how you catch me every single time,” Aevella asked sweetly, twining her arms around his shoulders until they were pressed close together; she pecked a kiss to his cheek. “Pretty please.”

Solas sighed and leaned his head back, partly catching sight of Aevella's face. She was very pretty for such a little thing, fiery red hair falling around her face like the waves of the ocean catching the last of the sun's rays, colour mirrored in the lines of Andruil's arrows on her face. Her deep green eyes glinted with an inner mischief. “Da'banal'ras, this strategy didn't work the last time you tried.”

Aevella placed her lips firmly against his forehead, tightening her embrace on him. “One day I will succeed in charming the secrets of your perceptiveness right out of you.”

“Maybe one day you will.” He didn't doubt it.

Aevella unwound her arms and slid her hands over his shoulders and down his chest, lips moving to his cheek; her fingers found the length of leather belt around his middle and tugged playfully at it. “Can I persuade you another way?” she breathed against his cheek.

Solas' fingers wrapped around Aevella's thin wrist, effectively stopping her in her tracks. “Hands, Aevella,” he told her in a pleasant, cordial voice. “They're wandering.”

She twisted in his grip, but it was next to impossible to break it; Aevella pouted like a small child denied a new toy against his cheek, pulling back a little. “How else can I bribe you? I've offered books, favours and favours, oh, and my love. But yet you still refuse to break.”

“Tell me one good reason why I should divulge my secrets, and then I shall speak.” If she thought about it hard enough, Solas theorized that Aevella would realize her mistake without his involvement.

Aevella pressed her cheek against the crown of his head, thinking hard for a long moment. A good enough reason... “Well... you could stop me from dying at the hands of some unspeakable evil?”

“Elaborate.” Solas let her wrist go, but she didn't unhook herself from his belt. Aevella liked to touch, to get as close as possible to a person. As close as they were comfortable with, of course. Her innocent actions reminded him of Compassion spirits, the way they liked to touch people that felt alone in the world, so isolated with no escape. Aevella's perceptiveness was not unlike Compassion with how she, in her own words, 'hugged first, asked questions later.'

He would never deserve this woman.

Aevella sighed in defeat, fingers loosening at long last. “Other than not dying, you mean?”

“Think about it, then come back to me. Or if you dare, try your moves on me again.”

“Is it that obvious, my mistake?” Aevella stepped back completely and moved to the front, slipping into the narrow gap between Solas' knees and the table; she plonked herself down into his lap without so much as a warning, throwing up her legs upon the wooden arm and crossing her bare ankles. “You don't mind this, right?” she finally asked, turning her face up at him with her bottom lip between her teeth.

Only the inner conflict that it caused him. Compared with his immeasurable age, Aevella was a child. Even her actions, so endearingly sweet and thoughtless, caused him reason for concern; what if he was prolonging the inevitable tragedy in allowing her advances and stolen kisses to escalate? If he was selfless, Solas would have let Aevella down gently at the cusp of their relationship. But when it came to her, he'd realized that he was an inherently selfish creature. Letting her go was simply not an option. Not if he could avoid it.

“No, but you should ask others before merely dropping down on them. They may not appreciate your affections like I do.”

“What can I say? You're just that cuddly when you're in a good mood” Aevella next to purred, wiggling her backside as she moved into a more comfortable position upon him; Solas was just thankful that her face was turned away from him at that moment so that she didn't see the effect she'd had on him. The gritted teeth would have given the game away instantaneously.

Aevella lay back against his chest, gazing skywards at the levels above; Leliana's birds were making an infernal racket, hopping too and fro in the cages that hung over the rotunda. She had half a mind to ask how come she'd never seen any droppings on the desk, but thought otherwise. There was probably some magical barrier preventing such a disaster. “What have you been reading?”She plucked the book back off the table and Solas' hands took it, holding it with her cocooned in his arms.

Solas thumbed through the yellowed pages until he came to the place where Aevella had stolen it from him. “An early work by Brother Genitivi. His views are... surprising for a Chantry scholar, and his modern take on the world fascinating.”

Aevella burrowed into him, seeking warmth; her official clothing had never kept the heat well. “I'd ask you to read to me, but I fear that your voice would lull me to sleep.”

“Are you not sleeping again?” Aevella felt guilty at the clear accusation in his voice. Since returning from the Siege on Adamant a mere month ago, sleep had not come easy. Her dreams were plagued with beasts infected with red lyrium, the Nightmare ever present in the blood-red sky. Twice the guards had broken into her quarters because of the intensity of her screaming, thinking that the Inquisitor was being attacked. After quietly confessing to him the morning after the second door was broken down, Solas had provided her with a sleep tonic.

One that she claimed she didn't need anymore.

“It's not the usual nightmare this time,” Aevella assured him, eyes picking out odd words on the pages before her. It seemed like Genitivi had encountered a dragon or three in his youth. And narrowly escaped on all three counts. “It's more... worrying about what's to come. If I'll be strong enough to face it when it does. So many people are depending on me, Solas. I didn't ask for the mark, for all this... but I got it all the same. What if I fall before I reach the end?”

Solas pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, muttering against it “you won't. I have every confidence in your abilities.”

“Except my stealth, it would seem.” Aevella huffed. She wound her arms around his neck and drew him in for a deeper kiss,

The door to the rotunda clattered open, Josephine's voice spilling into the room. “Inquisitor? Are you in here?”

Aevella practically flew from Solas' lap, book flying out of his grip, diving under the table with a loud bang as she hit her head. “I'm not here!” she hissed as she buried herself deeper under the table. “She wants the tailors to stick me with pins.”

“Ambassador,” Solas said by way of greeting as the woman stepped into the room. “I'm afraid that the Inquisitor isn't here. I seem to recall that she may have been in the garden?”

“Filthy lies!” came the echoing voice of Dorian above from the library. “She's under the table. Take her Josephine, before they sully my ears with more romantic and disgustingly adorable drivel.”

From under the table came an explosion of swearing. “I will send you back to Tevinter in pieces, Pavus!”

Josephine stilled, eyes slowly dropping to the table as a rattle and bang sounded below it, followed by Elvish cursing. “Inquisitor-? Are you... hiding?”

“Yes,” Aevella admitted in a pained voice. “I hate dresses.”

A sigh of resignation. “Please join myself and the tailors in your quarters, Inquisitor. We have very little time to have your outfit made up for the Winter Palace. Such reluctance would reflect very poorly on yourself and-”

“Okay, okay! Ir abelas.”Aevella groaned as she pulled herself out of the tight confines beneath the table, rubbing her dishevelled hair. Creators... her head hurt something chronic after hitting it in the same place twice.

Josephine looked between Solas and Aevella and merely shook her head a fraction. “I am sorry, Inquisitor. I would not insist unless it absolutely imperative.” She seemed sincere in her apology to Aevella. It was because of that reason that she didn't stomp her feet like a child. Though Dorian was in for it later; she could still hear him cackling away to himself on the level above. Traitor. Vint traitor. I'll have Sera stick your sea silk robes with arrows.

“I will be there in a moment” Aevella replied glumly, turning to Solas and leaning down, catching his face in her hands and crushing her lips to his without hesitation. It ended much too quickly for her liking. “I shall be by later so you can patch up the pin holes the savages leave.” Aevella stole another kiss for good measure, reluctant to pull away with Solas' fingers digging into her hip.

“Dareth shiral, ma vhenan,” he murmured against Aevella's lips. After a great internal battle, the Inquisitor finally managed to tear herself away.

“It's your perfume,” Solas suddenly called when Josephine was gone, halting Aevella as she trudged out of the room. “Coupled with your embrium soap, I can smell you coming a mile away. Change to elfroot and you'll be all but invisible.”

Aevella could only grin. “Until later.”