He rescued Thedas only to be thrown into War with his former lover, Fen'Harel. In their final battle he is snapped under the jaws of The Wolf. It should be the end. He should be dead, resting forevermore, but no he is dragged from the deepest depths...
Wooden doors were pushed agape, and the small band entered. Silvhen at point, Cassandra and Varric at his sides, and Solas at his back. He spots a supply stand and quickly approaches the owner. He buys and stocks up on various items and potions to prepare for the next couple battles they are going to have.
After he completes his transaction with the Supplier he makes his way over to Leliana, who is arguing with Chancellor Roderick. Hard. He sighs as Leliana catches a glimpse of him and gestures to him trying to formally introduce him.
"I know who the elf is-" Silvhen's eyes narrowed at the Chancellor and his hand came up in a hold up motion which (surprisingly) silenced the clergymen. He gestures to Leliana and asks her to translate for him.
"He -the prisoner- demands for you to either cooperate or allow the adults to speak. He will take matters into his own hands if he must." Leliana informs the Chancellor who turns to her, face red and scrunched in anger. Before he could utter a word Silvhen takes a hold of a nearby broom and taps the chantry leader in the face with its butt. The Chancellor's hand comes to his face, and he stares up at the elf in shock.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"How dare you! I am a grand chancellor! And I demand you take him to Val Royeaux to face execu-" He is interrupted by an abrupt whack to the gut and smack on the back. The victim falls to the ground in pain as Silvhen places the broom.
'What are our options?'
"We lost contact with an entire squad on that path; it is too risky." Cassandra warns. Silvhen places a fist against his head as he searches for a solution. They will lose people, that is inevitable... However, the chargers have a more likely chance of survival due to their numbers and raw power.
"-ey! Hey! Stalker, you alright there?" Varric places his hand on Silvhen's unmarked arm. "You are not looking hot. You good?"
Silvhen nods. 'I am fine. It just feels... odd. The bone feels like.... it is vibrating.'
Varric motions for Solas to approach and the apostate makes his way over and gently takes Silvhen's hand. As he inspects the Anchor, Silvhen holds onto his chest plate trying to keep himself grounded. He lets out a shallow breath. Just keep breathing. Just keep breathing. It's fine. It's fine. He peeks at Solas, and they make eye contact. He turns away and his uninjured hand clenches around the snow. 'It's not fine. It's not fine. It's not-'
A soft shush interrupts his spiral. The Well sighs softly before it hums a gentle lullaby. He hums with The Well and closes his eyes to focus on his breathing. His shoulders sag as he listens to his heartbeat. His eyes snap open and his companions are staring at him. He feigns ignorance and attempts to stand. Solas appears behind him, gently trying to touch him. "Do you-?"
Silvhen's eyes widen beneath the mask, and he jerks away from the older elf. He manages to keep himself from shoving Solas to the ground and beating him senseless and bloody. The corners of Solas' eyes pinched as his lips formed a thin smile as he distanced himself from the masked elf. Silvhen turns his back, muscles tensing and eyes flickering behind him occasionally, as he signals to Leliana his choice. "He wants to take the Mountain path."
