#wclfdreamt

She could remember, too, all the weird little instances -- both as a child and adult, that same green song, the song that sang for her the same way the anchor did. Could remember the way she weaved between unseen entities like dancing, something she'd been told required magical talent. All her little gifts, as she called them. Little things that she could do that seemed so… unimportant.

She remembered the way Solas had spoken of magic as easy as breathing. Him looking at her with an unreadable gaze and the strange feeling in her chest at those words. The way templars made her feel. The way Crestwood made her feel, and his words there too. She wasn't a mage, but what if she was? She didn't have magic, but what if she did?

She didn't want to ask him. Didn't want to hear the answer. Didn't want to see his disappointment as he told her she was already special enough as is, why did she want to be more special? Didn't want to be told she was attention seeking, and wasn't being inquisitor enough? The question hangs heavy on her tongue for nearly a week, anxiety and nausea in the pit of her stomach as the anchor thrums and flares with her nerves every time she considers asking. Her thoughts spiral out of control, breath quick and heavy like Crestwood and she can't bear to be around him. It's not healthy. This isn't healthy and she just needs to ask. Just needs to hear the words so she can get it over with.

It still takes her five minutes, hovering anxiously by his desk before she can work up the courage to ask. Takes a shaky breath. Won't look him in the eyes. " Solas? I-- listen I know it's a stupid question. I know you're going to just be like no Asha, I'm sorry or something and I know I'm being ridiculous but I can't stop thinking about it and I need to just hear the words because the thought is never gonna leave me otherwise and I just-- I know I'm being ridiculous and I'm sorry for bothering you," which was ridiculous because she was pretty sure they were sort of dating? "But I just-- I need to know. I need to."

"Solas am I… am I a mage?"

⋞⁘♔⁘⋟   Sitting on the winding steps that lead upwards to Skyhold’s main keep was always an interesting experience. To one side were armoured soldiers, practicing combative movements against pells, or wayward souls stumbling from the tavern after indulging too heavily in their cups. Oft he wondered if the state so many drank themselves into was more an attempt to momentarily forget the chaos of the world around him. 

To the other side of him were merchants, selling wares of everything from fineries to weaponry. Only once had Ravus perused their goods before he’d decided whatever they were peddling was not for him. He had no one to laden with trinkets and his own rapier was the only blade he ever wished to wield. 

When he finally grew weary of gawking at passersby, the Templar rose to stand with a quiet sigh. Nothing of what he was doing was productive, but Ravus was no stranger to militaristic operations. He knew that a sane mind also required moments of stolen peace to remain rational. 

His feet carried him up the stairwell and through the great hall. Wandering through one of the side doors, he found himself in the gardens. The crisp scent of budding flora and sprouting herbs was quick to greet him, and briefly, Ravus wondered why he ever left that particular area when he visited it. 

☾  ALNIRAFENEN was still getting used to Haven and being stuck among all manner of shems. Some that didn’t mind elves, others that had some colorful comments to make. Most didn’t seem to direct anything towards her — she was the so-called Herald of Andraste, after all. That was another thing that she had to get used to. Being held up in a position to a religion that she didn’t believe in. 

   LUCKILY for her, though, she had a wide array of people around her who were helpful and nice. She had her brother there, she had her little group of friends, and she had her wolf-pup, Eirlana. Right now, Eirlana was close on Alnirafenen’s heels as she made her way from her little cabin to the one where Solas usually stayed. 

   ALTHOUGH Solas was not Dalish (nor seemed to care for them all that much), he was still someone Alnirafenen could relate to. Plus, she found him very intelligent. He knew a lot about a lot of things, and she loved to pick his brain. Right now, she had burning questions about the fade and he was, as she had found out, practically an expert. 

   ALNIRA knocked fervently on the door to his cabin with her one free hand. Her other hand held a book that she had found that was on the fade. She had more questions than the book seemed to offer answers to. Perhaps Solas could help her. 

Tanya let out a loud and rather embarrassing yelp when the Black Book she had opened started glowing with a blindingly bright, green light. She dropped the book, the massive piece of literature remaining open as it hit the stone floor of her quarters above the Arcaneum.

@wclfdreamt asked : “I wondered when you were going to wake up. You almost didn’t survive.”

The words were hard to comprehend. And a voice she didn’t recognize was all the most to put her growing headache in a spin. Slowly glancing over she looked over the other with furrowed brows. Another hylian? No he can’t be. His aura seems different. But not in a bad way.

“Where- where am I?” She muttered a bit out of breath. Glancing around she was trying to look for a familiar face. She wanted to see her father.

“Yes.”

“I recently became aware of an artifact of elvhen origin in the Hinterlands. If you wouldn’t mind... I would like to investigate it with your help.”

“All you need is to ask,” Kaaras said with a gentle smile. Solas was always the man he went to when he was unsure of something magical. He knew that the Inquisition was growing larger by the minute, and there were scholars who were now travelling far and wide to be a part of the infamous Inquisition, but Solas was someone he had come to trust--someone who had been there from the start.

            regardless  of  the  past ,   he  does  not  fear  the  dread  wolf  now .

            ‘  new  reports  for  you ,  boss .  ’   he  opens  his  satchel  and  withdraws  a  stack  of  parchment  with  the  latest  movements  of  their  agents .  passing  them  over ,  he  adds :   ‘  and  a ,  ah ,  letter .   possibly  of  a  personal  nature ,  it  wasn’t  clear .  ’