#solas lines

I observed his profile with measured confidence and asked again, “Who am I trying to fool? The god who knows everything?” I reluctantly lowered the jar of honey to rest on a nearby shelf, the last thing I would want to happen is to drop my father’s labors, lest a confrontation erupts.

Solas released the amulet, glanced at his hand, specifically the constellation he had embedded into it, and flexed it.

“This act you parade. It is unbecoming of the one who gave my wolf shape.” He grabbed my right hand and pushed his marked palm into mine. He searched my eyes, “A curious finger trespassed into crimson paint. One which did not belong to me.” He withdrew his palm methodically, his long digits lingering on the fold of my index finger. “I did not know you had an affinity for murals as well.”

“No,” I affirmed. “I don’t know.” I had nothing left to lose. Lying felt easier than cowering to the truth. I wouldn’t allow him one more win. Even if the biggest lie was made to that of myself, I would throw it back in his face and rub it in for good measure.

As he pulled away, I dug my nails into his wrist and held it aloft. “I thought you said the Vallaslin is the mark of a slave? To which god do you worship in this graveyard of stars?” I sneered, shaking his arm for emphasis.

"I am bound to no one.” He growled, yanking his arm back.

“You are a slave to your purpose, to your pride, to your wolf you keep shrouded in the Fade. Am I the one pretending? Or is it you ?”

“You didn’t fool me with the sex, Moon’Hwa, nor with your false concern. Tell me, when you failed to kill me with the scissors, was that merely cowardice or did you drown in your own facade? I am not the fool here.”

All rebuttals fled from the vengeance of my mind, and any words left behind clotted in my throat, instead I was left with a stewing pot of rage with nowhere to direct it. I could only offer him my quaking closed fists.  

Solas waited, expectation pulling at his stony frown. He wrapped the excess of the blindfold around his arm and held the other end with his left. “There are…concepts that should remain unknown to you. For your own sake, and for mine .” The last word framed with a fragilely constructed sigh.

“What is left out there to maim my opinion of you?” I murmured, biting my cheek to suppress anything else born out of my rage.

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Anyways having them read lines from my story brings forth the absolute joy. I am so grateful to the both of them for amusing my little dreams. These two have no idea but they are my guiding light out of this prevailing dark tunnel. I never knew grief could be so overwhelming. But these little lines remind me of what I could be again. That there is still joy to be found in all this ruin and darkness.