Rea

aaaanyways

enjoy!!!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

 Grace have mate? Question.

I thought of Tom, of how he let his hair grow out between movies so I would have something to keep my hands busy during movie nights. I thought of his bright eyes and his blinding smile. How his laugh could fill a room, stop people dead in their tracks.

“Yeah, bud.” I nodded. “I guess I do. Tom.”

Grace not know? Question.

“It’s, uhm…” I buzzed my lips. “Complicated. He works with my brother. We’re not married, or anything.”

Explain.

“What, married?” I sighed. “Marriage is, uh, it’s a ceremony. Two people can exchange vows and promise to stay together forever in front of the people they love.”

Rocky clicked his foreclaw in a way that I now recognized as confused. Tom and Grace not want to stay together?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

I sighed, head in my hands as Colt pranced about the set he’d dragged me to. The bench I was sitting on creaked, and I looked up to the very welcome sight of Jody, offering me a styrofoam cup of coffee.

“You are an angel.” I took the cup from her, sighing happily at the warmth that radiated through my hands. “I don’t know how you guys work in these conditions.”

She chuckled, taking a sip from her own cup. “If we stop Ryder throws a fit. Or Gail brings down hell,” she shrugged.

I snapped my fingers. “Makes sense.” I took a drink— she remembered my order. I hummed happily.

“Colt works better when you’re around.” Jody crossed her legs, settling into a more comfortable position. “He likes to show off for you.”

“I wish he didn’t,” I sighed. “Just thinking about everything that could go wrong…” I shivered, this time not because of the cold.

She patted my shoulder, smiling softly. “We have precautions.”

“I know.”

“Well, well, well!” Bounding up to us was a man I was semi-familiar with. I’d seen his movies, if only to watch Colt’s stunts. “We have a visitor.” He grinned, all charming glint and perfect teeth. “Judy—”

“Jody,” she corrected under her breath.

“—You must introduce us!” Tom Ryder held his hand out, and I stood to shake it.

Jody stood up as well, plastering on a smile. “Tom, this is Ryland. Colt’s brother.”

“That’s why you look so familiar!” He patted me on the shoulder. “You are much more handsome, though,” he winked.

I blinked. “We’re twins.”

Jody stifled a laugh in a cough, swatting my arm. “Colt just wanted him here for Christmas, you know.”

“And he left you alone?” Ryder tutted to himself. “We can’t have that. Come on, you can have dinner with me while Colt finishes up.”

“I’m supposed to have dinner with my brother.” I raised my hands. “Really, I’m okay.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He shook his head. “We’ll have an early dessert, then. I can have Gail order us some crème brûlée.” His arm looped around mine, settling into the crook of my elbow.

I glanced at Jody, silently begging for help, but she just shook her head. “I’ll see you at dinner, Ry,” she called after us.

You’re the worst! I mouthed over my shoulder.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“It’s not that, Rock.” I sat criss-cross-apple-sauce in front of his xenonite ball. “Humans don’t always mate—” I said the word even though it felt wrong. “—for life. Sometimes we love each other, and things just don’t work out.”

Why things not work out? Question.

I stayed quiet for a moment. Why didn’t things work out? The distance, I thought. We were an hour and a half apart, by plane, and that was when he was in LA. Or maybe it was Gail. She’d never liked me— thought the optics of Tom dating someone who looked identical to his stunt double were less than optimal.

“I don’t know,” I finally admitted. “We had our problems, like everyone does.”

Rocky and Adrian have problems. Things work out.

I laid my head in my hands. “Yeah, bud. Some people are luckier than others, I guess.”

Grace lucky. Grace meet Rocky. He tapped twice on the xenonite.

“I mean with romance. My track record is…” I sucked my teeth. “Not great.”

Grace have multiple mates? He cocked his carapace to one side.

“Not at the same time.” I thought of Stratt, but shoved the thought away. Nope, not today. I could process that later. “You know, throughout my life.”

Tom was Grace first mate? I was getting better at understanding the tonal indications of Eridian. Sometimes, he liked to test me: omitting the signifier to see if I could still understand.

I winced. “Yeah, bud. Tom was my first boyfriend.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Which… at my age, isn’t exactly something to be proud of.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Halfway through our third movie of the night (yet another that Tom starred in), I was beginning to doze off. Even the e-book on the other side of my lap, switched on to dark mode so Tom wouldn’t see it, and the movements of my fingers through his hair weren’t enough to keep my attention.

I kissed him on the forehead, then patted his side gently. I stretched as he shifted out of the way, turning to look at me. “Where’re you going?” He whined, eyebrows furrowed over puppy-dog eyes.

“Bed.” I answered simply, ruffling his hair. He’d spent a lot of time in the sun over the last few weeks of shooting, and his roots were two or three shades darker than the end of his hair. “I’ve got class tomorrow.”

He frowned. “I fly back to LA tomorrow,” he argued, properly sitting up now. “I wanna spend time with you.”

I sighed. “I know, Tom. And I— I want to spend time with you too.” I pulled at the hem of my sweater. “But I have to work tomorrow, and I don’t want to be tired and cranky all day.”

“Then call off!”

He truly thought it was that simple. I couldn’t fault him for it, necessarily: there hadn’t been a day in his life that he had worked a “normal” job. “It’s not that easy, babe.” I leaned in to kiss him, but he pulled away, petulant. “Tom.”

“Ryland,” he mimicked my tone, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine, go to sleep. I’ll watch the movie on my own.”

“Baby,” I spoke softly, like I might to one of my students. “You don’t want to cuddle?”

Tom glared at me. “You’re manipulating me.”

I shrugged. “Maybe.”

He huffed, but sat up. “I bet Colt would watch the rest of the movie with me.”

“You and Colt barely tolerate each other at work,” I reminded him. “Come on,” I held out my hand.

With a roll of his eyes, he acquiesced.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Rocky first mate Adrian, he argued back.

“Right, but…” I waved my hands in the air, floundering. “It’s like how I don’t have any pilot experience. I’m not as good at it.”

Rocky stomped his foot against the bottom of his ball. Grace self-deprecate again.

I really shouldn’t have taught him that.

“I guess.” I pursed my lips, thinking. “Maybe it just felt that way,” I allowed. “Tom was a movie star. A really popular one. He’d dated like a million people before me. And probably had sex with about twice as many.”

Grace and Tom problems were about procreation?

“No!” I groaned. “I mean— no.” I huffed. “We just were at two different points in our life, and we lived far away from each other, and, I mean, my brother didn’t even like him—”

Rocky rolled the xenonite ball forward. Grace brother, Colt, choose Grace’s mate?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“I just don’t get it.” Colt shrugged, taking a bite out of his hamburger. “I mean, he’s a stuck-up jackass.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” I chided, sucking the last of my Coke through my straw. “And don’t call him a jackass. He’s really not.”

He laughed. “He really is.” He leaned back in the plastic chair. “He still calls Jody Judy, you know?”

I winced, staring at my fry as I dipped it in ketchup. “And that’s not great,” I admitted. “But he took a flight all the way to San Francisco just to surprise my kids after state testing. And, well, to surprise me. He does stuff like that, too.”

“So ‘cause he’s nice to you,” he pointed an accusatory fry at me. “He gets a free pass to be an asshole to everyone else?”

I held my hands up. “Could you stop with the swearing? We’re in public,” I whispered. I sighed, looking up at the popcorn ceiling. “He’s trying, Colt. Thirty years of bad habits are hard to break. We both know he’s been better.”

“It’s a low bar.” Colt raised an eyebrow. “Do you really wanna be with someone like that?”

“Colt,” I pleaded.

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Just saying.”

My phone buzzed: a text from Tom.

Coming back to LA tmrw

Meet halfway?

I grinned, typing my agreement when Colt’s hand hit the top of my phone, pushing it to the table. “Earth to Ryland.” He waved his hand in front of my face. “You’re having lunch with your brother, remember?”  

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“Of course not, Rock.” My elbows dug into my thighs as I leaned forward. “But, you know, it’s always nice when your family likes who you love.”

Would Colt like Stratt?

I froze. “We agreed not to talk about that.”

You agreed. He made a motion with his forelegs, one that was meant to mimic a human shrug.

“You’re the worst, Rocky.”

I’m the only Rocky.

I threw a pen at him. It bounced harmlessly off the xenonite. “I didn’t say it was a requirement,” I said. “Only that it makes things easier. Especially because Colt knew Tom first.”

Rocky rolled in a circle around me. I let him. Sometimes, he needed to move to think. He reminded me of Colt when he was like this: always moving around, seeking optimum arousal before he could complete a thought. Rocky has question.

I sighed, suddenly feeling like I was back in my classroom. “What is it, Rock?”

Grace love Tom, yes?

“Yeah.”

Grace love Colt?

“Of course.”

And they love Grace?

Loved, my brain oh-so-helpfully corrected, but I just shook my head. “I certainly hope so, bud.”

On Erid, he began, chittering to keep my attention. Like jingling keys in front of a baby. Mate is family.

“I see where you’re going, Rocky.” I nodded. “But it just doesn’t work like that. Sure, I guess some people could have called them brothers-in-law, but that doesn’t magically make them tolerate each other.”

He curled his forelegs underneath him, whistling. Not even for Grace?

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“I’m going to kill your brother.”

“Tom, please just calm—” The glare Tom sent me shut me up. “Sorry. Can you tell me what Colt did? I’m sure he didn’t mean—”

“Oh my God.” He slammed the bottle of rum down on the countertop of his home bar, turning to face me properly. “What if he did mean it, Ryland? What then?”

I raised my hands, opening up my posture purposefully. “I don’t even know what’s going on.”

Tom rolled his eyes. “It doesn’t matter if I tell you or not. You’re going to pick his side.”

“There’s no sides!” I exclaimed, amazed that I had to explain it. “We’re adults, Tom. We can have a mature conversation about this.”

He turned back away from me, pouring the rum into a glass. “He’s screwing up takes on purpose.”

I blinked. “What?”

“He’s pissed that I’m hanging out with Jody more and he’s pissed that we’re together, so he’s fucking up my movie.” Tom took a deep swig. “You can see his face in like, every take.”

“Tom…” I shook my head. “Look, I don’t know a ton about entertainment, but I do know that mistakes happen in every industry.”

“Not like this,” he groaned. “You keep making excuses for him!”

I sat down at the island, running my fingers through my hair. “He’s my brother, Tom.” I looked up at him through my eyelashes. “The only family I’ve got.”

That really didn’t help.

“Oh.” Tom straightened. “So, we’re not family?”

“You know what I mean,” I sighed. “I have to defend him, because he would do the same for me.”

“So would I!”

“I know.” I let my head fall against the marble counter, burying my face in my arms. Ouch. “I know,” I murmured, muffled into my arm. “We’re codependent and we’re assholes to each other and he’s an asshole to you and it’s not fair but it… it’s how it is.”

I heard Tom perch on the counter and felt him staring at me. “Is it because of… you know?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

His hand settled gently on my scalp, massaging it slowly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I shook my head into the countertop. “I am.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

“It’s not that they chose not to, Rock.”

Rocky trilled, ready to debate, but I shook my head.

“Colt is overprotective. It’s annoying and unreasonable. But it’s not like I can fault him for it.” I uncrossed my legs, staring at my feet so I didn’t have to look at Rocky directly. “I told you about our dad. About Courtland. After he went to jail, it was like something in Colt switched on. He was the oldest, I guess, and needed to prove to himself that he could take care of us both when Court couldn’t.”

He let out a low sound that I now understood as comforting, and rolled closer, bumping against the side of my leg. Grace leak.

I realized with a start that I was crying and rubbed the heels of my hands into my eyes harshly. “Sorry, bud.” I hiccupped. “I just miss…”

Miss who?

I leaned against Rocky’s hamster ball, and he slumped to the same side. Even through the xenonite, I could feel his warmth flush against me. “Earth,” I admitted. “Colt and Tom and…”

Stratt.

I nodded. “Yeah.”

He made a sound just outside of what I could register. I felt him vibrate, but couldn’t exactly hear it. Stratt hurt Grace.

“Yeah, bud, she did.”

Grace still loves Stratt?

I didn’t answer. Couldn’t, really.

Question, he added.

“I know.” I closed my eyes, relishing the warmth that spread through the smooth panes. “I do. Still love her.”

Grace still loves Tom?

I nodded.

He trilled. Good thing Grace can stay on Erid. He bobbed his carapace up and down in an approximation of a nod. Complicated.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

I sat in front of the camera, straightening my cardigan and making sure my hair looked okay. I looked down at the list I had in front of me:

Colt

Tom

Jody

I turned on the camera.

“Hey big brother.”

I paused, like he could answer, taking a deep breath to steal myself. “I don’t know when this will get back to you. There’s one beetle left here that I can send back to Earth. We’re just about 15 light years away from you guys; it’ll be a little over 16 once we reach Erid.”

“Whoever receives these will give them to you guys, I hope. I’m adding a written letter to whichever government authority gets to the beetle first.” I swallowed thickly. “I really miss you, Colt. Stratt left a letter in here, letting my know that you didn’t actually die. Which was good. And it sucked, in its own way.”

“I didn’t volunteer. I know Stratt made sure everyone thought I did, but I just want you to know I didn’t choose to leave. I tried to stay. Fought like hell, I promise.” I laughed to myself. Rocky hummed in the other room.

“I hope Jody’s good. I’m gonna film one for her, too, but you know. Hope things between you two are good. That you didn’t mess it up again.” I tore off the corner of the paper, ripping it into progressively smaller shreds. “It’s been, what, thirty years for you? At the time of filming this, at least. It’s only been about eight for me.”

“We’re starting to run out of food,” I admitted. “By we I mean me. Rocky’s got more than enough.” I leaned farther back in my chair so I could bring my knees to my chest. “So I just wanted to make sure I could say my last words to you guys before I go delirious from starvation.”

I chuckled. Colt wouldn’t find it funny: he’d hate me joking about it.

“Anyways, man, I love you.” I wiped my palms on my pants. “You and Rocky would get on like a house on fire. He’s picking up English sarcasm fast.”

I shrugged, staring at the pile of paper shavings I had created. “I’m not sure what else to say. If there’s anything else to say. Just… I love you. I miss you.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Colt

Tom

Jody

This was probably going to be the hardest.

“Hi,” I said simply, staring at the camera. “You’re gonna have to bear with me, babe, I’m not a natural on camera like you are.”

I shifted in my seat, digging my nails into my palms to ward away tears. “Hi, Tom. I know it’s been a few years— well, it’s been decades, for you, but for me it’s been a few years. I’m sure you’re all moved on, and everything, but—”

Harsh tapping echoed through the lab as Rocky stomped at me.

“Uhm, sorry. This is Rocky.” I reached up to adjust the camera so Rocky was screen. He waved with his fifth leg, and I turned it back on me. “Anyways. I kind of sucked. You were right, I did always take Colt’s side. I’m sorry.”

I rubbed my fingers against my jaw. “I really, really love you, you know? Did since you dragged me into your trailer that first day.” The memory drew a wet laugh from me, and I ran my finger absentmindedly along the straight line of shredded paper I’d arranged at the desk. “Stratt— the Hail Mary director— put all sorts of movies up here. I watch them with Rocky, sometimes, and it’s nice to see your face. I can tell which ones we were together for; your hair is always longer in them.”

“It’s also nice to think about you and Colt working together and getting along. I’m sure even my supposed imminent death might not be enough to do it, but you can’t blame a guy for dreaming.” I smile sadly. “I really hope you’re doing okay, Tom. Better, at least, now that you don’t have to deal with my crud.”

I chuckled. “Even in space, I can’t bring myself to swear.” It’d been something that had equally enamored and annoyed him. “I wanted to call you, before they sent me up here. Didn’t know if you’d want me too, though, so I didn’t. No greater mood killer than your ex calling you about potentially going on a suicide mission.”

I sounded crazy, I realized. Maybe years in space with no human contact had fried my brains. I cleared my throat with a cough. “Goodbye, Tom. Hope you’re doing okay.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Colt

Tom

Jody

“I know what you’re thinking,” I started, already raising my hands in surrender. “That I’m a stupid, self-sacrificing idiot who didn’t think this all the way through.” I raised an eyebrow. “Pretty close, eh?”

“I already told Colt this, in his video, but in case you’re not together or he doesn’t tell you, I didn’t volunteer. I was kind of forced up here.”

Another stomp in the background.

“I was forced up here,” I corrected, glancing back at Rocky with a grin. “I hope you’re good, Jody. I wish I could come back, just so we could get coffee and you can tell me all about the amazing movies I’m sure you’ve directed.” For the first time, I truly started to get teary. Jody had been the closest thing I’d ever had to a sister, and I was realizing with sudden alacrity just how much I missed her.

“The coffee up here is crap,” I lamented. “They didn’t pack any hazelnut creamer. Just milk and plain sugar. Probably healthier and all, but who needs to be healthy on a suicide mission? It’s annoying.”

My throat was beginning to tighten, my eyes burning with the need to cry. “I miss you so much, Jody.” I sniffed. “Maybe more than I miss Colt,” I joked.

“In case there’s a little Jody or a little Colt on the way— or already here— tell them that their Uncle Ryland loves them, okay?” I offered a sad smile. “And that I’m watching over them from up here.”

Every now and again, Da’len’s eyes would twitch beneath her eyelids as she murmured softly and twisted in the bed. While I had found a chair, Lace had refused it, choosing instead to sit on the floor, watching Da’len closely. When I tried to convince the scout to take some elfroot for herself— the magic storm she had followed the other redhead into had thrown her around, leaving her with a black eye and a nasty cut on her forehead— she had insisted we give it to Da’len.

“She’s just tired, Lace.” I said. “That was a lot of power to wield for someone unused to it.”

She shrugged. “I’m just making sure. If she throws up, she could choke, or—” 

“I can watch her.” I assured, standing. “Maybe you should get some sleep. Or take a quick walk.” 

Lace looked up at me, the effort to do so seeming immense. “She’s just a kid. Teia trusted us to look after her, and now she’s…” 

“She’s sleeping, Lace.” I knelt down next to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Nothing hit her. Her body is overworked. That’s it.” The orange light thrown by the sconces we had lit cast Da’len strangely, the soft lines of her face harsher and older. 

The dwarf pushed herself to her feet, grunting quietly under her breath. The skin around the laceration on her face pulled as her eyebrows furrowed. She tucked the blanket closer to Da’len. “Do you think she’s having a nightmare? Should we try to wake her up again?” 

I shook my head, looking up at her from my spot on the ground. “There’s nothing dangerous about a nightmare. She’s not a mage.” 

“We don’t know that, not really.” Harding wrapped her arms around herself, her foot tapping on the stone floor. “What if Solas can get to her?” 

“Does he know?” It was a question that had been plaguing me since they had told me about Da’len’s parentage. 

She sighed. “We don’t know. He knows he had a child. I don’t think anyone told him what happened to her.” 

“What happened to her?” I raised an eyebrow. 

“The Venatori. Time magic.” Her fingers smoothed down loose strands of Da’len’s hair. “I’m not sure what else they did to her.” 

“Time magic?” I had only ever heard of it in theory.

Lace nodded. “She’s supposed to be ten.” My eyes widened in shock, looking at the young adult on the bed. “Whatever issues I have with Teia and Viago keeping her from the Inquisitor, they raised her well. She seems so unaffected by it, usually.”

I took a deep breath. Although Harding kept calling her a kid— and she was young— Da’len was an adult. “I doubt she’s unaffected.” The way Da’len had frozen when Lace had offered her up to talk to Solas reminded me of the kids of the drunks that hung out around the Lamplighter: terrified of their parents. “Whatever she went through, I don’t think she’s forgotten it.” 

She swallowed, her hand pausing its movements over Da’len’s forehead. “I was at Skyhold when she was born,” she whispered. “And when she disappeared.”

“So you still think of her as an infant?” I sighed. “She’s not.” 

“I know.”

A whimper escaped Da’len and she turned herself onto her side, tucking her face into the pillow. I had just met the girl, but even I could see her sleep was not restful. I stood, placing a hand on Lace’s shoulder. “Get some sleep.” She opened her mouth to argue, but I shook my head. “For my peace of mind. I’ll watch her.”

She nodded. “Yeah, okay. I should write to the Inquisitor, too, let her know what’s going on.” 

“Will Da’len be okay with that?” 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Harding’s voice was incrementally less confident than it usually was. “It’s not like the Inquisitor’s going to write back or show up here.”

I gave her a nod as she left the room. “Be careful out there. The Fade goes on forever if you fall.” 

His face twisted into something equally defensive and mournful. “I was not destroying the world.” The place we were in twisted around us, and I suddenly found myself leaning over the edge of a sheer drop. My breath, what little of it I had retained, escaped me as I stumbled backwards. “When you disrupted my ritual, the magical energies pulled me here. Into the Fade.” The words were accusatory, as if I had done it on purpose. 

“Then why am I here?” Each breath sparked in my lungs, the magic around us coalescing around me. 

“You shed a few drops of blood at the ritual site. Enough for a tenuous connection.” He said it so casually, as if the words themselves didn’t make my skin crawl around my bones.

“Blood magic.” My face twisted in disgust, memories I thought I had buried rushing quickly to the surface: Venatori keeping me hooked up to needles and tubes, collecting what of my blood they could without killing me. The way their magic had coiled around me, holding me in place so I could not rip their devices from my skin. How I had hated—

“Firstly,” Solas hissed, “I abhor the use of blood magic. Secondly,” he scoffed. “If I had the power to control you, I would already have used it.” 

I stammered. He sounded so… fatherly, for just a moment. Not his tone, of course, but his words. They sounded so similar to something Viago would say. I breathed deeply through my nose. “Why me? Why not… Harding or Neve? They’re far more powerful than I am.” 

His eyes narrowed. “There is something about you. My magic reacts to you in a way it should not. You have power, far beyond what a mortal should have, and you are, what? But twenty?” 

“Nineteen.” My voice came out soft, almost a whisper. “I’ll be twenty soon.” Deep within me, something wanted him to do… something. I didn’t know what— say happy birthday?—but it ached that he did nothing. I shook my head, as if I could shake the thoughts out of my mind. “All I need to do to get away from you is to wake up?” 

He cocked his head, an amused smirk pulling at his lips. “And how much experience do you have willing yourself to wakefulness?” 

“It can’t be that hard,” I snapped. 

“Well,” the Fade contorted again, and the platform he was standing on appeared behind me. I turned as he continued to speak.  “While you practice, perhaps you would like to hear about the consequences of your actions.” 

Another simple sentence that reminded me so much of what could have been. Would it have been him lecturing me, instead of Viago? Or would it have been the Inquisitor? “What do you mean?” I wanted, so badly, to be free of this conversation. If it meant listening to his lecture, I would deal with it.

“The Evanuris. Or as you call them, the ‘elvhen gods.’ The creatures that escaped.” Solas seemed unnervingly composed. He did not shift his weight, or play with his fingers as he spoke. He stood perfectly still, spoke the words so confidently. “In ancient times, they ruled the elves, but that was not enough. They sought not just to be obeyed, but to be worshipped.” 

Now, it was my turn to scoff at him. “They sought to be worshipped? Not you, Fen’Harel?” I raised an eyebrow. 

He ignored me. “When I rebelled, they drew on the horrific magic of the blight, corrupting all they saw until I trapped them.” I swallowed, my breath suddenly catching in my throat. I had never envisioned him as a righteous hero. What little I knew about him was what Uncle Dorian had told me, what he had seen during the Inquisition— that he had abandoned the Inquisitor. And me. “Thanks to you, though, I am now trapped— and the blighted ‘elvhen gods’ walk free.”

“Right.” I fought the urge to roll my eyes. “You were innocently doing nothing when we came along.”

“The prison in which I had trapped them had begun to crumble. I was moving them to another—” 

“So you weren’t tearing down the Veil and drowning the world in demons and wild magic?” I sucked my teeth, watching as his face fell.

Solas took in a deep sigh. “I had a plan.” 

I thought of all the times I had said the same words to Teia and Viago. My breath came out shaky. I hoped he didn’t notice. “Varric always said you’d have a big explanation for why none of this was your fault.”

“Varric.” The name escaped him in a mournful whimper.

“Yeah, he said that’s your style.” I kept talking, even though the look on his face made my heart clench. I wanted to hurt him, hurt him the way he had hurt me. His absence was why the Venatori had been able to take me. Why I was alone for so long. “Never quite lies, clever half truths that let you convince yourself you’re doing the right thing.” Varric’s face as he fell flashed in my mind. “He was your friend. He tried to talk to you anyway, and now he’s hurt.”

“Varric is—” He cut himself off, the clacking of his teeth echoing in the Fade. His throat worked through a swallow. “Quite practiced at shading the truth, himself.”

I bit back the rebuttal that formed on my lips. “Those things that escaped— you said they were gods?” 

Solas leveled me with a glare, and the platform I stood on dropped. Suddenly, I was looking up at him, no longer at eye level. “They said they were gods,” he corrected, “blighted, tyrannical, sadistic gods.” He began to pace, turning away from me. “It took all my power to imprison them millennia ago. I am certain you will be fine.” 

 This time, the urge to roll my eyes won out. “That’s really helpful. What are you, the elvhen god of sarcasm?” 

“Lies, treachery, and rebellion, depending upon the story.” The quip escaped him faster than he turned to face me. “And how could I help? I do not have my ritual dagger. I cannot access my network of mirrors to travel from the Lighthouse to anywhere in the world. All I can offer is what I know.” 

I wondered if he knew. If, somehow, he had recognized me. Did I look like my mother? I wondered. His eyes were grey, had I gotten the bright violet of mine from the Inquisitor? I swallowed down my questions. If he didn’t know, he didn’t need to. If he did, he didn’t care. 

Varric Tethras who is scared shitless in the Deep Roads. Hawke notices— because of course they do— and sticks to his side, the spark of magic that emanates from them like static on his skin. Their hand settles on his shoulder even as he raves about the vengeance he intends to enact on his brother. They mutter to him about something Carver had done in Lothering. It makes him laugh.

Varric Tethras resigns himself to watch as his best friend falls quickly in love with the blond ex-Warden. He can't bring himself to hate Anders, but it is a near thing.

Varric Tethras who watches Hawke bloom in Hightown. They were born for the upper class, for the pleasantries and comforts of the newly reclaimed Amell— now Hawke— Estate. Varric Tethras who visits for dinner weekly, who sits across from Leandra and smiles politely as she talks about the young man that her eldest is sweet on when Hawke leaves the room.

Varric Tethras who is half asleep and hungover after an unrequited love-induced bender in the Hanged Man when Aveline bursts into his room, yelling at him to get his ass up because the Qunari are attacking the city and the cause of his drunken stupor decided to challenge the Arishok.

Varric Tethras who shows up at the Hawke Estate unannounced after Hawke defeats the Arishok and the rest of the Qunari presence in Kirkwall, fuming that they didn't bother to bring him with. He helps them bandage up a burnt arm while he scolds them. They ask why he's so bothered. He doesn't answer.

Varric Tethras who joins Fenris in his own estate across from the Hawkes'. The both of them drink several bottles of wine before either has said a word. They watch Hawke and Anders come and go as they work to move the blond into their home. Varric Tethras who chips a tooth as he takes a too-enthusiastic swig straight from the bottle.

Varric Tethras who sits next to Hawke at Leandra's funeral when Carver refuses to. He takes their hand in his and doesn't say a word, even when their arms wrap around his middle and their head drops to his shoulder as they cry. Varric Tethras pulls Anders aside after the service when he begins a rant about how better lives for mages could have prevented the tragedy and convinces him to shut up and simply comfort his partner.

Varric Tethras starting to spend more time with Hawke, who begins taking refuge in Varric's room at the Hanged Man. They sit with their back against the legs of his desk as he writes, unspeaking. He allows it, happily.

Varric Tethras who notes the path his friend is taking when they continue to defend the mages and spite Knight-Commander Meredith. He doesn't try to change their mind, and only reminds them once that their brother is a Templar.

Varric Tethras who flinches when Anders falls to the ground, not perturbed by the killing itself but instead by the way Hawke's eyes go dull as they do it.

Varric Tethras who merely nods when Hawke tells him they want to leave. Their eyes meet and he could swear there was something that passed between them, unspoken and secret.

Everything was going to shit.

The months it took to reach Minrathous had been the most peaceful part of our journey. Even the pirates off the Rivaini Coast had been restful by comparison.

Solas, apparently, was impatient. We had barely been in Dock Town for an hour before the sky was tearing open and raining demons down on us. I had never met the man, but I cursed him. My father. Damn him.

The raw magic of the Fade made my skin itch, my teeth ache, my eyes burn behind the lids.

I grunted as one of my arrows pierced through the neck of a cloaked Venatori mage. “It’s like they’re following us,” I cursed, pulling a knife from my belt to plunge into the stomach of one that crept behind me. “I can’t escape them.” 

The bright, glowing barrier before us glinted in the evening light. There was a pull. It dragged on my heart the same way an ox pulled a wagon. A single touch, and it fell around me. 

“Varric, Harding!” The woman standing amidst the corpses of Venatori mages was tall, dressed in blues and silver. “Not the worst timing.” She grinned. 

Varric hurried down the steps towards her, looking back only to offer me his hand. 

“Neve!” Harding followed behind us. “It’s so good to see you. We thought the Venatori had kidnapped you.”

Neve Gallus, the great detective Harding and Varric spoke so highly of, grinned. “They thought the same thing.” Already, she was moving, and we followed without question. “A lot of Venatori in this city have reason to hate me. Figured I’d play along, find out who wanted to settle the score this time. Then the sky started raining demons. So I’m back on the job.”  

“Appreciate it.” Varric glanced back again, like he was a mother duck and I his duckling. “Rook, this is Neve Gallus, our local expert. She’s gonna help us find Solas.”

“An impressive ploy.” I let my eyes scan the area as the sky lit up above us. “And a good taste in enemies.” 

Neve paused, cocking an eyebrow as she looked back at us. “Rook? Like the chess piece?” 

“My name’s Da’len,” I corrected. “He says I—” 

“Most powerful piece on the board, but she tends to think in straight lines.” He smacked my arm playfully, and gestured for me to follow. 

In the distance, a demon roared, and our pace picked up. “I haven’t seen Solas in person, but I did find hints of old magic. Similar to what you get in elven ruins.” 

“Great,” I murmured to myself. “Half of the group hasn’t met him.” I grinned sardonically at Varric. “Good planning, old man.” 

He swatted at me without looking back. “Technically you have met him, when you were in his—”

“Okay!” I pushed past him, shaking my head. “Enough of that. Were you able to trace the magic you found?” 

She looked between me and Varric, her eyebrows raised. “Yeah, to a building beneath Our Lady of Victory.” Her gaze travelled over me. “Are you a mage?” 

My skin prickled, either from her question or from the wild magic in the air. “I am not,” I sighed. This was a conversation I had blundered through with every mage we met. Whatever sensitivity to the Fade they possessed, it was enough to sense something off about me.

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t push.

Arlathan. 

The ancient homeland of the elves.

There was something in the air that weighed heavily on my skin as we made the march up to Solas. Wild magic sparked against my skin, flashes of blue light arching off into the air. When, finally, we had a chance to breathe, the flood of demons seemingly stemmed, I threw my back against the cool stone walls of the ruins, sucking in as much air as my lungs could handle. 

“All right,” Varric placed Bianca on his back, nodding at me. “I’ll take it from here.” 

Harding turned, shaking her head. “Solas isn't going to stop just because an old friend asks nicely.” She looked at me with a sad sigh. “Maybe Da’len should talk to him.”

The idea of it, of meeting him now, made me freeze. My breath caught in my lungs, choking me. 

“No.” Varric shook his head. “Not happening.”

“Why would Da’len talk to him?” Neve's crystalline magic slammed into an oncoming shade. “Why would that help?”

I forced myself to swallow, shaking my head. “Please don’t make me.” The words were merely whispered, as loud as I could make them. “He won’t— he doesn’t even know me.” I looked solely at Varric. “Please. I can’t.” 

“You won’t.” His voice was steady, sure. “She won’t.” 

“What is going on?” Neve’s gaze danced between the three of us. “What aren’t you saying?” 

“Solas is her father.” Harding was the only one to speak. I cringed, fighting how my head wanted to turn, to see if he’d somehow heard her.

The detective seemed knocked off of her feet. “Maybe Harding’s right, Varric. She could—” 

“She’s a kid.” Varric snapped. He ran his hand over his face, sighing. “I will go talk to him. Just keep the demons off me.” 

I grabbed his arm as he turned to leave. “If anyone can do it, it’s you.” He grinned up at me, and I bent, all but kneeling to hug him. 

He laughed, startled. One arm, strong and wide, wrapped around me. He patted my back once. “Thanks, kid. And if he doesn’t listen to me, he’ll hear from Bianca.” Varric patted my shoulder. “Take care of the team for me.” He didn’t look back as he turned, but the magic Solas was harnessing seemed to pulse in time with my heart. “Hey Chuckles! Hope I’m not interrupting.” 

My mouth went dry as Solas turned. He did not look at me— why would he. We shared a nose, I realized. Our chins drew the same line, our lips…

I shook my head. “All right.” I nodded at Neve and Harding. “Let’s buy him some time.”

Demons were not the easiest prey, but it gave me something to focus on. The slicing and shooting helped draw my mind from the voices echoing through the ruins, Solas and Varric still arguing. 

The sound of Varric drawing Bianca was what finally pulled my attention back to their conflict. “You need to listen,” Varric demanded, aiming the crossbow at Solas’ back. “Please.” For a moment, my throat tightened, air getting stuck in my chest. The vision hit me, all at once: watching him die before ever truly meeting him. My father. I had gotten used to the phrase, on our journey. My parentage did not revoke the love Teia and Viago had for me, nor what I held for them. 

My worries were unfounded. Solas turned, his eyes flashing the same blue that had worried Teia and Viago in my own eyes. In an instant, the crossbow flew from Varric’s hand, smashing against the stone steps.

“People are always dying.” He turned back to his ritual, raising the dagger he held. “It is what they do.” 

Finally, I could breathe. “Shit.” I huffed a breath, slinging my bow over my back. “We need a better plan.” 

Harding knelt, pulling her own bow to full draw. “Want me to take the shot?” 

“Won’t work,” Neve shook her head. “He’s too powerful.” 

My gaze danced around the ruin, hoping for anything that might help me get Varric out alive. He would not want me worrying about him. I did anyway. 

It was as my eyes skipped past Solas that I saw it: a statue— I didn’t know of who—, held up by scaffolding. “What if we disrupt the ritual?” I pointed across the way, and Harding stood, nodding as she, too, saw it.

Neve’s eyebrows furrowed. “It’s too risky. Interrupting a ritual of this size will have consequences. And stepping into that much raw magic—” 

“If anyone is suited to do it,” I huffed, “it’s me.”

“I’m coming with you.” Harding did not ask, simply looked directly at me and stated it. “You’ll need backup.” 

The Tevinter detective sighed. “I’m a mage. I should go, too.” 

“One of you needs to stay.” They both looked to me like I held the answers. If I had ever, they had already slipped through my fingers like water through a sieve. I opened my mouth a few times before I could speak, the thunderclap of roiling magic the only thing that forced it out of me. “Neve, keep the demons off us. Harding—” 

“On your six.” She was already moving, placing herself between me and the worst of the magic storm. 

But it did not touch me. It slid right past me, as if I were a fish and it was merely water. While Harding had to push through, struggling with every step, I felt somehow lighter. I moved easier. 

I did not have time to dwell on it. We hurried across the ruins, ducking behind support beams and around other statues. Pulling the scaffolding away was easy, and we pulled back, looking up expectantly but it didn’t fall. 

“Fuck me.” I whispered. Did I have time to simply push the statue? Maybe. But also maybe not. I cursed again, narrowing my eyes at the stone. 

Harding sighed. “We’re gonna have to push— Da’len—” She reached for my arm, but I was already done. A wave of the same blue light that surrounded us arched out from me, and the statue began to topple. 

“Move.” I turned, rushing to push us both up against the wall, out of the statue’s path. 

I could hear Solas yelling, distantly, as blood began to pound in my head. I could feel my heartbeat in every extremity, suddenly off balance and weak. I pitched forward, looking up in time to see Solas shove the stone away with his own burst of kinetic energy. 

His eyes landed on me, narrowing suspiciously. 

Varric moved, grasping onto Solas’ arm and wrestling against him, trying to pull the dagger from his grasp. My own gaze flicked to my godfather as Solas pulled against him, their fight becoming physical. 

I tried to run, to reach them, to help, but though I had been practicing the magic with Varric, my body protested at every step. I stumbled to the ground, only regaining my footing in time to watch Varric topple from the dais, Solas’ dagger wedged into his chest. 

I screamed. 

I could barely tell the sound was coming from me. I tasted copper in my mouth just before the magic finally turned on me, suddenly pushing me back as I tried to get to him. I saw the blood, a single drop on the ground, before I felt it against my upper lip. 

My vision was beginning to gray out around the edges, but I pushed on, slipping on stone that, just moments ago, had felt like clouds. I hit the ground once more, rubble cutting into my palms. I blinked, but when my eyes opened I saw nothing but darkness. 

“You do not have to go just to prove Viago wrong.” 

I stilled, pausing halfway through shoving a shawl into my leather bag. “I am not—” I groaned, turning to face Teia. “I want to go. This is not a rebellion, it is what I want.” 

She sighed, brushing a few strands of hair that had escaped from their plaits behind my ears. “Your tio would say—” 

“Lucanis is dead.” The words tasted bitter in my mouth, but I spat them out anyway. I turned away from her, tucking the shawl to the side so I could fit an extra knife in the bag. I took a deep breath, filling my lungs enough to hurt. “I love you, mamá.” An exhale. “You are my mother.” I couldn’t bring myself to look in her eyes. “But I cannot stay in the Diamond for the rest of my life. I have had enough captivity.” 

“Oh, mija.” Her arms wrapped around me, drawing me back into her chest. “We just do not want you to be hurt.” I let my head rest against her collarbone, listening to her heartbeat as she stroked my hair. “You will come home, yes? And you will have to write. Viago may very well lose his mind if we do not know you are safe.”

I nodded against her chest. “Of course, mamá.” 

“Good.” She patted my head gently, and sniffled once before pulling away. “Are you finished packing? Do you have everything you need?”

I nodded again, and she cupped my face. “I’m gonna miss you, mamá.” My breath came out shaky. 

Her thumb brushed against my cheekbone. “I will miss you too.” She adjusted the collar of my shirt, smoothing it out. “You will do very well with Scout Harding and Varric. They will take care of you.” 

The three of us— the two dwarves and I— sat, legs dangling into the canals. A boat will come by soon, Varric had sworn. It had not. 

I could’ve told him the gondolas only came every two hours.

“You know,” Varric ran a clean cloth over the arms of his crossbow. “You may not like her, but you’re just like the Inquisitor. Reminded me of her, when you were arguing with the Talon.” 

“Because I am also an elf?” 

“Because you push back against authority.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I mean, a dalish elf was being called the Herald of Andraste. You think the Chantry was fond of her?” 

I felt my eyebrows furrow. “Wasn’t the Inquisition founded by a Seeker?” 

Varric laughed again, louder this time. “Ah, the Seeker wasn’t very fond of her either, at first. She took me to Val Royeux with her, the first time she went. The Chantry had an army of Templars waitin’ for us. And your mother, oh, she was livid. Watching her try to be proper was the best part of the job.” 

Your mother. I was Viago and Teia’s daughter, no one else’s. But I supposed, if only by blood, the Inquisitor was my mother. I decided not to argue. I crossed my legs beneath me. “You knew her well?” 

“Her and Solas. We were part of her… the inner circle, is what they called us.” He checked the crossbow again, listening to how the mechanism moved. He shook his head, recalling something far off. “Your other godfather— Maker, he was glued to the Inquisitor’s side. A Tevinter mage, one that had served the Magisterium, no less. Mother Giselle hated him. Tried to ship him back to the Imperium a few times. Could hear the three of them fighting three floors down.” Mother Giselle. I hadn’t heard the name before; it wasn’t one the bards usually sang. If she was Chantry, she must’ve been a healer.

“She was also kind,” Harding interjected. “And generous. First I met her, she travelled across half the Hinterlands to get a potion for an ailing refugee. Never dealt with any talk from us scouts about her being an elf. We were just happy to have a competent person in our corner.”

Varric nodded. “Rescued an Inquisition soldier around the Crossroads, too. She had wandered off after taking a break to piss.”

“Right,” I nodded. “What was Uncle Dorian like? Back then, I mean.” 

“A ponce.” Varric spoke bluntly. “I mean, he was great. Rescued us and the Inquisitor pretty much the first time we saw him. But he also always made time to do his hair. Made getting out of camp a Maker-honest battle every morning.” 

I giggled. “That sounds like him. He’s trying to change the Imperium, now. Started a political party and everything.” 

“Making the Inquisitor proud, I’m sure.” Harding grinned. “Do you know him well?” 

“I do.” Talking about my godfather brought a smile to my face. “He’s just always been around. When he’s here for business, he always makes sure to stop by. Tevinter has good sweets.” I turned to Varric. “Why did I know about Dorian but not you?” 

Varric sucked his teeth. “‘M not exactly the greatest role model. Besides, I was the backup godfather.” 

“Backup?”

“Your ma asked practically every woman in the Circle to be your godmother. Josephine was the only one to entertain it, but she’s back here now. Wouldn’t have been close to you, if you—” His jaw clicked shut, like he realized what he was about to say. 

“If I hadn’t been kidnapped?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “I have had some time to get used to the word.” 

He patted my arm. “Brave girl,” he grinned. “Yeah, if you had grown up in Skyhold, like you were supposed to. And it’s not like she could ask Sera.” 

“Sera?” Another name I had not heard.

“Oh.” Harding shook her head, her hand over her face. “Another of the Inner Circle. Very…” Her nose wrinkled. “Spirited. She would enjoy what you did with the gaatlock.” 

Varric chuckled, snorting loudly. “And not great with kids. She was even iffy with Cole.” Harding joined his laughter. It felt like they were sharing jokes I was not privy to. He huffed, looking down the canal. “What is taking so long?” 

I stood, waving across the canal. “Timitrei!” I called, easily drawing his attention. “We need a boat to take us out past the docks, to…” I turned to Varric. “Where are we going?” 

He blinked. “You could have done that this whole time?” 

I nodded. “You didn’t ask.” 

“Maker save me.”

“We need to get to Minrathous,” Harding answered, an amused smile playing on her lips.

“To Minrathous!” 

Timitrei nodded from across the canal. “I will call a gondola, and a small ship to meet you at the docks.” 

“Thank you!” I called after him. “We are going to Tevinter?” I turned back to Varric and Harding. 

Harding nodded. “We have a contact there. A detective.” She stood, holding out a hand to help me up. I took it. “She has a lead on Solas.” 

“Does he…” I chewed on my tongue. “Does he know about me? That I’m alive?” 

Varric shrugged. “No one really knows what goes on in his head. He could be watching us from the Fade right now. He might not remember that I exist.” He stood, too, grunting at the movement. “It’s a toss up.” 

“If he does know,” Harding assured me. “I’m sure he cares for you. I barely spoke to the man, and even I knew how enamoured he was by the Inquisitor.”

“Then why’d he leave?” The question escaped me in a whisper. “Not that it really matters—”

“Of course, it matters.” Her hand landed on my forearm, squeezing gently. “It wasn’t because of you. That much I— we— know.”

I nodded, only pulling away when the gondola paused before us. “Have you been to Treviso before, Scout Harding? I can give you a tour as we go.” 

She smiled. “I would appreciate it.”