Dragn

Gf egg

It's like a gamble every morning, Solas had never been keen on gambling. Card games in general were alright but the foolishness that the human mind delved into when presented with the opportunity of chance was horrendous. Solas had met a spirit once that seemed to represent that particular craving, not sure what to call it the spirit had simply wandered off again. At the very least the emotion hadn't been so corrupted as to dissolve into the desperations of a demon.

Pleasant in spirit or not, Solas was not so fond of such things in the waking world. And yet some cruel twist of fate and nature had made every morning a guessing game. All the analysis of patterns and prediction couldn't compare to the dreadful itch that traveled under skin until it hit bone. A miscalculation could lead the day to be no more than a constant stream of nausea.

When Solas lived alone there was no fear of being seen, of being perceived and labeled and marked. When those gamblings came knocking there was nothing to fear. They were free to come and go as they pleased. Solas had never had this, had a steady stream of things to do and places to go. The ever present person around every corner was such a foreign feeling. When had it come to this? Many days were spent behind a locked door and deep in sleep where the fade could muddy reality with its ever present glow. The faintness of low lights and locks a clear signal to stay away and leave the elf to the spirits. Where before there was a freedom now it felt like a looming burden that one could only hope wouldn't make itself known at an less than opportune time.

And yet it did, because it wasn't nature's will to listen to the pleadings of one elf in such a vast world. In those times all Solas can do is drown in the mask fit to the mold, to play himself in a room full of staring eyes. A song and dance just as practiced as his brush against stone. The image burned into the mind so clearly it's second nature now. Not easy, never easy, but memory takes over and does the rest from there. And if that means Solas must play himself for a week or so when the inquisitor needs him then so be it.

"He managed to bring back a substantial amount of information from their last outing, it was rather useful."

"Yes, I recall the Inquisitor speaking of how he went out of his way to achieve it."

"I'm just glad he's so dedicated to the cause."

"Yes, she makes lots of sacrifices for all of us."

"What was that?" Josephine asks as she looks up from her papers, one meticulously manicured eyebrow quirked upwards.

"She sacrifices a lot," Cole says again, "but she's happy, when it works out she likes to see the results." He has his eyes trained on the table, gaze following the planned trail of wooden soldiers across their path.

"Who?" Cullen asks. He sets down the figure he'd been holding slowly. It feels like something is rearing up to strike the way he readies himself. No one was ever sure how to deal with Cole's musings when he never seemed to actually be in the place his body sat.

"Solas, you were just talking about her." Cole's feet kick at the sides of the chest he's perched on. The sound echoes from where he sits high above everyone else, silence otherwise bringing the rest of the room to a halt.

No one wants to be the first one to speak. They don't want to be the one to presume what that means, not when the man— when Solas isn't there to defend his own being. Josephine and Cullen share a glance that speaks a dozen words a second. The messenger in the room shifts on her feet as though she suddenly doesn't fit in the space. It's Cullen's general that makes a move to excuse them politely and guides her out with him.

The Inquisitor manages to find their voice first, though it trembles with an uncertainty with their words. "Either way, I'm grateful for Solas's work, I'll be sure to keep you informed on our finds in the future madam Montilyet."

Cole leaves without another word as he's prone to doing, leaving the rest of the advisors in a confused silence.

This pattern repeats itself over the course of several weeks. It becomes a push and pull to where no one is certain exactly what they should be thinking. The overlapping colors just turn grey in their uncertainty till they mean nothing at all.

"I talked to Solas earlier, he said there may be a way to keep me from being bound," Cole announces. He trails behind Cassandra effortlessly.

"Ah, he... did now," Cassandra hesitates, looking to Cole's gaze in hopes that she'd done that right. The spirit boy makes no notice of it which eases her chest.

Again, a few days later, Dorian is subject to the same feat. "Say, Cole, do you happen to know if the spirits could interfere with the rifts?" He flips idly through one of the many books stacked precariously on the edge of the desk.

"I don't know, I'm not spirit enough any more to find out," Cole presses the toe of his shoe against the stack until it slides to the center of the table. "You should ask Solas, when she dreams she gets to talk to the spirits so he might know."

Dorian freezes his hand where it's reaching for another book. So odd, Cole was so very odd. "Alright, I'll do that then."

"You don't stop when I say things like that."

"Hm?"

"When I say things about Solas," Cole reiterates, "you don't second guess yourself like everyone else does. It's like they forget how to be when I say it."

Iron Bull chuckles rather than laughs but the sound is hearty from deep in his chest. "Yeah, well it's not new to me, sure Solas wouldn't fit under the Qun maybe but Solas isn't of the Qun."

"But you talk about him so comfortably, everyone is so afraid to be wrong but they never ask." The beating of Cole's feet against the wooden railing is hard, louder than usual. Bull notices even with the sound of the half full bar.

"Look at it this way," Iron Bull heaves himself out of his seat and leaves his drink behind, "Solas has never said it himself yeah? If solas happens to make a point of it then sure, let it be what it is. Clearly he isn't comfortable making it everyone else's problem yet so until the if and when he does I stick with what you say. When that changes I change how I talk about Solas, you seem to know at the drop of a hat because of your little mind dives right?"

Cole nods but the look on his face is still solemn. Bull nudges his shoulder lightly, hoping to get the kid to loosen up. The thumping of wood slows down to a quiet tap.

"It hurts, when people get it wrong, solas won't say anything because he worries it's too hard, he barely understands it, how could he expect anyone else."

Bull sighs, "I'm glad you're not talking in riddles so much anymore, either way though it's up to him. Though we could do well to make sure he—"

"She."

"To make sure she knows that it won't be a problem. If people can figure out my buddy Krem they can have the decency to ask Solas what mood she's in."

That seems to do the trick, Cole's face lights up to the point Bull can actually see his eyes gleaming underneath.

"Thank you, The Iron Bull, I can help better now."

"We can all help a little better kid."