#solas knew she was vindictive but how far she would let that take her

[impossible-rat-babies]

truly eshka de riva is built different like darva sat and pondered on and off for a half decade over his hopes for solas. eshka had him in her head for a few months and she had no regrets over stabbing the guy

[a-world-in-grey]

Sola/Blood of My Blood snippet

@secret-engima I will never get over this au, it’s too awesome.

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“I thought you didn’t want a Shield.”

The question comes, hesitant and quiet enough that Sola could pretend not to hear it at all. Noctis’ gaze remains on his phone, on one of the games he used to play but hadn’t touched again until Prompto stumbled into his life.

Into Noctis’ Heart, but that’s Noctis’ detail to share in his own time.

Anyone else, Sola would tell them exactly where to shove that question. She’s heard it far too often from too many nobles, all with the same sneer in their voice and the disgusted affront radiating off them so strongly they didn’t need magic for Sola to know exactly what they were feeling.

Filthy-refugees-how-dare-

But this is Noctis, magic curling in curiosity and worry. Worry for Sola, worry that the choice wasn’t hers, worry for a bond that might have been forced and the damage that would do to both her and her Shield.

Sola lets the bobbin drop against the tapestry and joins Noctis on the couch. They’re in her suite, in the sitting room she turned into a workroom back when she’d been on extended medical leave and needed something to do with her hands. The couch hadn’t come until after Noctis returned, so her brother could have a place to hang out while she worked on her current tapestry.

Sola only asked once if Noctis was truly okay watching Sola work - weaving a tapestry isn’t the quickest process - instead of doing something else with Sola, but her brother had nodded and Sola had let it be. Noctis always brought something to do, a book or a game, or simply napped, and it didn’t take Sola long to realize Noctis just wanted some quiet time while in her presence.

It made her smile fondly when she figured it out. It was startlingly similar behavior to Abyssus.

“I didn’t at first,” Sola says once she’s made herself comfortable. This... is not going to be an easy conversation. Noctis lowers his phone, darkening the screen. “You’d just disappeared. Taking a Shield felt like giving up on you.” And there’s the familiar guilt welling up in Noctis’ magic. Nope, not right now. “There’s a reason the Council chambers needed a renovation, and it isn’t because Papa decided he disliked the decor. On an unrelated note, Lord Egestas hasn’t spoken to me since.”

She grins at Noctis’ hastily smothered snort. There’s a sharp swell of anger on her behalf, but it’s under the reluctant amusement so Sola will take it as a win. Distraction a success.

Sola isn’t a nice person and her humor reflects that; it’s vicious, vindictive, and at times crude. There are few things Noctis shares her amusement on, but Sola doesn’t mind. Her brother is so much kinder than Sola. Noctis truly sharing her sense of humor would mean he’d lost most of the kindness that makes him who he is. And that would break Sola’s heart.

Neither of them like Lord Egestas though. Which means Sola gets away with a lot more than Noctis would normally tolerate.

Now for the hard part. “‘A King needs his brothers.’”

“‘A Lucis Caelum needs their Retinue.’” Noctis finishes, amusement fading. Blue eyes turn distant, turn towards memory and Sola squeezes Noctis’ hand to keep him in the present.

Three years without his Retinue. Three years in the kind of hell that would shatter most people, without any anchors to ground himself.

Six, no wonder her brother had issues.

“Galahd calls it The Draconian’s Rage.” Sola says, closing her eyes against the ache in her chest as she recalls those days. This time, it’s Noctis who squeezes her hand, wrapping her in love-comfort-safety, I’m-here-I’m-here. “Without anyone to ground me... I lost it.”

Noctis closes his arms around her, tucking her against his side, and she still hasn’t wrapped her head around the fact that he’s taller than her now. But the comfort is more than the hurt of lost years. “How bad?”

“Aracheole isn’t there anymore.” Sola says dryly. She’s not going into the details. The details would only hurt.

Just as the details of Noctis’ horrors would only hurt her. Sola knows what she’s been told by Cor and Papa, and she’s inferred a few things from the changes in Noctis’ magic and behavior.

She doesn’t need to know more. She doesn’t want to know more. Not when there’s nothing she can do.

That Sola destroyed an entire stronghold to its foundations is enough for Noctis to get the picture. His arms tighten around her, magic shuddering in horror and dawning realization.

Sola shouldn’t have been able to blow a hole in Aracheole’s wall. For all her unique magical abilities, Sola has never had power.

Noctis isn’t the only one with more magic than he had before. Even if the sheer depth to his magic, that she can only ever glimpse when they’re alone and tangling their magic together in reassurance that they’re both there, makes Sola want to weep. Because Noctis’ magic is so much deeper than her new reserves and the thought of her little brother suffering through even more of that agony...

He never should have had to endure that.

“How far?” Noctis’s grip is bordering uncomfortable, clinging desperately to Sola and the warmth-reassurance Sola wraps around him like a blanket.

“The Wanderer.” Hundreds of years. It’s why she weaves so often. None of the kings and queens before her wove tapestries, never wove at all. It lets Sola distinguish her present from past memories, lets her box it away in the back of her mind.

Lets the flashbacks and nightmares be hers.

Noctis manages to suppress his flinch, but not the sharp sorrow and guilt that spikes through his magic. Sola pushes silent acceptance and reassurance at him. It was her choice to reach so far. And perhaps if Noctis hadn’t been missing, perhaps if he’d been safe back in Insomnia, perhaps then Sola would’ve stopped at the Oracle.

But Noctis wasn’t safe. And there’s very little Sola won’t do for her brother.

She doesn’t regret it in the slightest.

“When I woke, everyone let me know what they thought of that stunt.” Even Hestia Ostium, Libertus’ Chieftess, gave her a tongue-lashing over the grief Sola’s actions had inflicted on her then-boyfriend.

From the huff behind her, Noctis fully agrees with everyone’s actions.

Brat.

“I knew Axis was an Amicitia shortly after I met him.” Sola confesses. “But I didn’t want a Shield. He didn’t want to be a Shield. So we ignored it.”

“Until Aracheole.”

Sola hums in agreement. “Axis introduced me to his kids as Aunt Sola, and told me I wasn’t allowed to die on my new nieces and nephews. And that I was terrible at watching my own back so he was going to watch it for me. Then we bonded.”

Noctis blinks, skeptical. “Just like that?”

Sola huffs. “No. I had to be convinced taking a Shield did not mean I was giving up on you or resigning as your Sword. But the trust had been there for years. Nyx and Tredd and Luche too. Took all of three days to bond with everyone. Quickest Retinue ever assembled.”

Not counting the seven years before she bonded with her Retinue, but the history books don’t count that. Morons.

“And they’re all fine being bonded to a Lucian princess?” Noctis asks, bemused.

Sola smirks up at him. “Not Lucian, little brother.” She taps the four beads at the front of her Ostium Chief braids. The shifting green and purple Galahdite, the purple-black charoite, the blue pearl, and the golden yellow citrine. “As far as Galahd is concerned, I’m their Chief. Simple as that.”

Well, not quite that simple. But she doesn’t feel like rehashing the complicated mess of being Chief to another Chief, on top of sorting out how to allow her Retinue to remain in their own Clans instead of dragging them into the Ostium.

Ladon had suggested creating a new Clan, but Sola shot it down immediately. She likes being an Ostium. Sola proposed to her husband, and she’s not giving up his last name. And she didn’t want to force her Retinue to leave their Clans either.

They’d figured it out eventually. After a lot of yelling. And a fistfight. Or two. Sola refuses to count Hestia breaking Ladon’s nose. Even Tredd admitted Ladon deserved it.

Noctis considers this for a moment. “So long as you’re happy.” He decides.

“I am.”

[katalyna-rose]

Vicious Truth

As always, Thema belongs to @thema-sal-shiral and Lyna belongs to me!

A Spirit of Truth reveals the true intentions of the Dragon Queen to Lyna and Thema.

Direct sequel to The Celebration of Millennia

“So that was fun!” Thema said, sarcasm dripping off her tongue as she threw her beautiful robes across the room. Lyna sighed fondly at her.

“You were fun, at least,” she soothed, but Thema merely grunted, something dark in her face that hadn’t existed until after she’d done her little disappearing act under the table. Lyna frowned as she shrugged out of her robes and tossed them carelessly aside. She went to her wardrobe and pulled out fresh panties, the ones she’d been wearing having been left under the table. Solas groaned as he watched her bare ass sway.

“What happened to your undergarments?” he asked her in a choked tone. Lyna glanced over her shoulder to see him staring between her bare ass and Thema’s, and laughed.

“They were wet!” she told him simply and he groaned again.

“Let’s go hunting,” Thema said suddenly, before anyone could form ideas about sex. “I need to get out of here and kill something.” Lyna glanced at her curiously.

“You often hunt alone, vhenan,” she reminded her lover, mind still on the way Solas had jerked and gasped and moaned beside her as Thema worked him under the table. She remembered the way she had captured his moan as he orgasmed with her lips and she wanted him.

“I don’t want to go alone right now,” Thema told her flatly. There was something in her eyes that told Lyna that this was more important than hunting, more important than her need to escape and revel in physical exertion.

“Alright, vhenan,” she said, and Solas sighed dejectedly. Lyna pulled on the thin cotton that would protect her skin from her armor and laughed at him.

“You always have you left hand, ma lath,” she told him teasingly. He rolled his eyes as he slipped into his usual tight trousers and loose tunic.

“My left hand isn’t nearly so creative,” he muttered as he threw himself down onto his desk chair. “And it will never surprise me.” Lyna dropped a kiss on his forehead as she plucked out her many earrings and the fine mesh nets she wore over them, dropping them into the dish on the front of her jewelry cabinet, which sorted the ornaments on its own with magic, hanging them all in their proper places. She plucked pins and combs and gems from her hair that followed the earrings into the dish, letting her hair fall around her shoulders, braids of duty in place but all other ornamentation removed. A few quick swipes with a spelled cloth removed the paint from her face, eyelids cleaned and lips back to their natural color. Finally, she was ready to put on her armor.

Thema was nearly finished by the time Lyna began strapping hers in place, having not worn half as much jewelry and left her hair mostly free. Lyna sometimes wished she would make more of an effort at these functions, but she knew it didn’t really matter; Andruil had never cared much for social functions so Thema’s lack of interest was fine.

“Work on those crystal enchantments while we’re gone, then,” Lyna told him. “You’re still having trouble getting the force/lightning balance just right. It’ll keep you occupied. Maybe you could find a way to hide more than a person, like perhaps a wagon or a mount.” Solas sighed and rolled his eyes again, but he did pick up one of the waiting crystals, gathered for this purpose.

Once Lyna was armed and armored, the two of them made their way to the eluvian and stepped through. Thema led Lyna across the paths, intent on her destination. She did not take them to their usual hunting grounds but instead took them to one of the first ruins they had discovered together, long since gone over by historians and scholars they’d directed to the site, everything of interest catalogued and saved. The area was abandoned once again, though it was now a recorded part of history. Lyna knew this wasn’t about hunting when Thema took her to one of the hidden rooms within the ruin, an ancient trigger opening an ancient door and then sealing seamlessly behind them.

Lyna lit a torch left in the wall, the Fade fire bathing the room in a blue-green glow. She faced Thema and put her hands on her hips, scowling. “What is this about?” she asked. “Why couldn’t we discuss it at home?”

Thema’s lips were pressed together tightly and she shook her head. “It’s about Mythal,” she said, and Lyna relaxed her posture. Neither of them liked the Dragon Queen much, but Solas still had difficulty seeing the flaws in her even after so much time free from her.

“What happened? What did you see?” Lyna asked, now concerned.

“She wants him,” Thema told her, and Lyna scowled. “She saw what I was doing to you two and she was staring at him. I saw lust in her eyes, unmistakable.”

Lyna believed her. “Why, though?” she asked, honestly confused. “If she wanted him, she could have taken him when he was her slave or before he was ours. She has as little problem as Elgar’nan with taking other lovers, though she’s discreet about it and I don’t think he knows. Why didn’t she stake a claim when she had the chance?”

Thema shrugged. “I don’t know, but she was staring me down when I let her know that I saw. She challenged me. I won that time, but what if it happens again?”

“I don’t understand why she would do this,” Lyna said again, thinking over Mythal’s behavior for as long as she could remember. “He was her general, she lifted him up to become Evanuris. If she wanted him, why didn’t she take him?”

“Because he left,” a whispery voice answered. Thema and Lyna both stiffened before the spirit revealed itself. It was small, glowing a soft blue in the light of the Fade fire, and its voice reminded Lyna of a small child. “She would have but he left.”

“Who are you?” Lyna asked the spirit gently, not wanting to frighten it away when it seemed to have insight for them. It turned toward her, featureless but still giving the impression of attention.

“I am Truth,” it told her, voice high and thread and childlike. “I watch the Evanuris because you are so wrapped up in lies. I like to find the Truth of you.” Thema stiffened again, fear hiding behind fury, but the spirit turned to her. “I do not share what I find,” it assured her. “If I did, I would have no further opportunity to study the place you come from through your True Soul. You are both very fascinating and I owe my loyalty only to what I am. So I will tell no one because I do not need to.”

“Thank you, Truth,” Lyna told the spirit honestly. It bobbed at her, like a nod. Thema sidled away slightly. “Do you know why Mythal is acting as she is? Will you share it with us?” It bobbed again.

“I do not like the Dragon Queen,” it admitted. “She has so many lies wrapped around her that her Truth is warped. Some of the lies she’s told for centuries she even believes now. I like Elgar’nan even less, but that is part of the problem. She wants to leave him.”

“Mythal wants to divorce Elgar’nan?” Thema repeated, stunned. Lyna felt her jaw drop.

“I knew they were unhappy, but they have always seemed content to stay as they are,” she murmured.

“Only Elgar’nan is content with these lies and unhappiness,” Truth told them. “He likes it when she hurts, even though her pain hurts him, too. He likes to be nasty to her and he likes it when she’s nasty back. He likes to hurt in bad ways, but the reason why is wrapped in so many layers of intertwining lies that I cannot see the Truth.” It turned its attention to Thema, who stifled a flinch. “You like to hurt sometimes, too. You like to fight and claw and bite, but it is different. You like it because there’s trust and thrill and it isn’t real. It’s release but a different kind and it’s safe.” It turned its attention to Lyna next. “You like to be small when the world is too big. You like to be restrained and told what to do and how to do it. But you like it because you trust them, because you know they will never hurt you in ways that you do not ask for. It’s release but a different kind and it’s safe.” The spirit trembled slightly, its attention far away. “Elgar’nan and Mythal are not safe.”

“So Mythal wants to leave,” Thema said. “Why doesn’t she just tell him to fuck off?”

Truth returned its attention to her. “You have been here long enough to know that scandal can be deadly, Otherworlder,” it said. “If she left without giving cause, he could make her an enemy, even turn the others against her. She would be destroyed. He is vindictive enough to do so and she knows this. She needed a reason.”

“She… She lifted Solas up so she could leave Elgar’nan for him?” Lyna asked, horrified as she caught the point of what Truth was trying to say.

Truth bobbed another nod. “When she found him she knew he would be good. He was hers already and she saw his potential. He would be sweet to her. But he was only a slave and she couldn’t leave for a slave. So she observed his strengths and placed him in her army. She knew she only had to wait. And he did well, became a general, and she was able to dote on him. She gave him anything she was allowed to give a slave, showered him in affection. She was trying to make him hers. But she wanted it all to seem as real as possible so she did not force him into her bed.”

“If she asked, he’d have been forced to obey as her slave,” Lyna murmured, wrapping her arms around herself and shivering from memories trying to surface. She shoved her own trauma away and attempted to focus on the issue at hand. Truth gazed at her and she got the distinct feeling that it mourned for her pain.

“Yes,” it confirmed after a moment. “But if she was to seem as though she truly loved him she would need him to choose her because he wanted to. So she tried to make him love her. But she got impatient, didn’t wait long enough. He did so well as her general that she raised him up before he loved her. She thought he did, thought he would be hers as soon as his position was secured. But he didn’t and he wasn’t. He took the power and then he left her. She thought he would come back. She thought he just needed to stretch and get used to having power. But she was lying to herself. The Truth was that he never loved her. He respected her and he cared for her, but he never loved her. Her plan was doomed to fail from the beginning because she was right about him. He is sweet and kind and he is good to his lovers. And she is nothing that he needs.”

“She manipulated him?” Lyna asked, feeling sick. Truth bobbed.

“She didn’t care if he actually loved her,” it confirmed. “She only wanted it to seem that way. She wanted to be able to stand beside him and declare her love for him and his for her. And then she could annul her marriage and all the scandal would fall on Elgar’nan, the jilted former husband left for a better man.”

“It’s all a game to her?” Thema shrieked, enraged.

“But you said that she was jealous,” Lyna said to Thema. “If she doesn’t really care, why would she be jealous?”

“She wants him in her bed,” Truth told them. “That doesn’t mean she cares for him. She feels slighted, like you two stole him from her even though the Truth is that he chose you. He chose you and she can’t stand that. She finds him attractive and wants him, but it is not care, it is not love. She is angry.”

“I’ll kill her!” Thema cried, but Lyna held her steady by the shoulders.

“You can’t!” she reminded her. “Solas won’t believe it, you know he won’t!”

“But Truth-“

“He won’t listen to me,” Truth told them. “He still thinks she cares for him. He thinks she’s his ally. He won’t listen.”

Thema stopped and glared at the ground. “How do we get rid of her?”

Lyna shook her head. “We know her game. We know what she’s done. It will be enough for us to keep her off him and prevent the worst of her plots from coming to fruition.”

“But what she’s done is monstrous!” Thema cried. “We can’t just let her-“

“We’re not letting her do anything, Thema!” Lyna replied, shaking her lover. “Think it through! If we got rid of Mythal, what would happen? Her lands would fall to Elgar’nan, her slaves become his. We would be subjecting all her people to his rule. She is an awful person but she’s better to her people than Elgar’nan. And she keeps him in check! If he were not so distracted by the problems between them, if he could focus only on his love of inflicting pain, what would happen to us all? You think he would stop at hurting slaves? You think that would satisfy him if he were not distracted by Mythal, by being able to hurt her and feel her pain through their marriage? Think it through!”

“You could use it,” Truth piped up after the silence had stretched out into discomfort. Both women looked at the spirit. “You know that she wants Solas and you know that she wants to get away from Elgar’nan. You can use that to further your goals.”

“You know our goals?” Lyna asked it.

“I am Truth,” it reminded them. “I see your Truth and I see that you are kind and you want to free the People. You already freed your courtesans and they are in the best care you can provide. You are both so good to your people. You expanded their living quarters, even! All the spirits talk about it, about how you two are so different. We know you are not the power you wield, that Andruil and Ghilan’nain are dead. But we won’t tell! You are kind to us and to what we are. This suits us.”

“When it is time, will you help us?” Lyna asked.

“Some will,” Truth replied. “Some owe allegiances that forbid it. Some have natures that defy it. But none will give you away. We would rather be destroyed, when the time comes.”

“When the time comes,” Lyna echoed softly, suddenly feeling the weight of what they were planning, the realities of what was to come.

“We can do this,” Thema reminded Lyna, and she looked up with a smile and nodded.

“There are ways to win,” Truth told them. “And there are ways to fail. It is not certain. There is no Truth yet for me to see. But I know that you will try and you will everything you can. And if you use Mythal, convince her that you can free her from Elgar’nan, then she will help you if she is managed carefully.”

“I hate her,” Thema said. “I don’t trust her.”

“We don’t need to trust her,” Lyna told her. “We only need to use her. She has power and resources that we can use. As long as she believes that she will come out on top, she will commit to it.”

“Yes,” Truth said. “You know what I am and you know my purpose. In Truth, I wish you well.” And then it vanished as it completed its parting ritual.

“He won’t believe us,” Thema lamented with a scowl.

“No, but we can do this,” Lyna replied. “He is our heart and he will see the Truth when it is time.”

“Yeah,” Thema answered, but she sounded sad.