Chapter Text
“I can’t stand these Evanuris gatherings,” Felassan complained thoroughly while walking down a golden alley. It was early in the morning in Arlathan. The sun shone through the high golden arches, reflecting beautifully off the marble floor.
For the next couple of weeks, they would be housed in a pretentious palace in the heart of Arlathan. It was the first day of the grand council gathering of the Evanuris. During these gatherings, they discussed current politics, planned future procedures, and talked about all the developments within their respective realms.. but mostly they used it as an excuse every five years to drink and celebrate.
Solas was walking beside his friend, his hands clasped behind his back as he kept pace with Felassan. He had already gotten used to these gatherings. In fact, he quite enjoyed them even. They not only got to meet the other Evanuris, but also had the chance to talk to their scholars, their diplomats, and their advisors. It was always interesting to learn more about the other corners of Elvhenan.
“The food and drink during these stays are excellent, my friend. And the library here holds books even Mythal’s collection lacks. Take it as a little vacation,” Solas told Felassan in a mocking tone, the corner of his mouth slightly lifted.
Felassan huffed. “Vacation,” he repeated. “Between all these vague council meetings? Delightful.”
Solas was about to respond when an elven woman stumbled out of a side alley, catching his attention. She looked around, searching. She looked a little confused, a few scrolls tucked into her arms.
She lifted her gaze to meet his, only then to look between Felassan and him.
She had long, thick, pale blonde hair, with slight curls at the ends. She wore a flowing gown in soft ivory and deep slate green, accented with delicate gold details. Dark red vallaslin marked her as belonging to someone’s household, though he could not tell to whom.
Odd.
They were in a section of the palace which led to the council of the Evanuris. That woman didn’t seem like she belonged anywhere near this part of it, judging by the markings on her face. Yet she wasn’t dressed in rags, but in fine, expensive garments.
Hm.
“The servant quarters are on the other side of this palace,” Solas simply said, gesturing vaguely in the direction he supposed she was searching for. She was wearing vallaslin. So she must be some kind of servant, no?
The woman’s eyebrows knitted before they raised again. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight to one hip. She seemed... offended?
“Is that so?” she asked, her tone obviously sarcastic as she tilted her head. Emerald eyes assessed him with very clear skepticism.
Huh? Solas was honestly a little startled.
Felassan let out a snort as he saw Solas being caught off guard. Vallaslin one way or the other, her garments clearly indicated she was no simple servant.
“Please excuse him,” Felassan stepped in. He walked a few steps toward her, opening his palm as he spoke. “Can we maybe help you in any way? You seem lost.”
The woman shifted her gaze from Solas to Felassan, a small smile building on her lips. She exhaled and brushed a strand of hair behind her long elven ear, while shifting the scrolls in her arms a little.
“That would be so very kind of you,” she responded. “I was supposed to fetch a report for my mistress and get it back to her before council, but this place is so...” she started gesturing and chuckled a little, overwhelmed, “...enormous. I just can’t seem to find the way to get it to her.”
Felassan let out a small laugh and gave her an agreeing nod. “Oh, trust me, you are not the first and will certainly not be the last who gets lost in these halls,” he reassured her. “To whom do you intend to deliver this report? We might know where their study is located.”
The woman shook her head slightly with a small smile. “No, I just came from her study,” she explained. “I need to get this to Ghilan’nain before council. She is my mistress. But I suppose I’m already a little late...”
Solas’ eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Ghilan’nain?” he asked.
But she did not wear Ghilan’nain’s markings. In fact, he still couldn’t make out what these deep red markings on her face were supposed to mean. He first thought it just might be another king or general who had his own symbol he marked his slaves with, but it seemed like he was wrong.
Curious.
The woman didn’t even bother to look back at him and continued giving her full attention to Felassan. “Do you know how I can get to council?”
Felassan was a little surprised by her directness, but then smiled. “You’re in luck,” he said while slightly lifting his hands, gesturing towards Solas. “My friend and I were just headed there. You could accompany us, if you’d like.”
The woman smiled and exhaled in relief. “Oh, I would be very grateful for that,” she said, adjusting the scrolls a little in her arms once more.
Felassan nodded with a smile and gestured in the direction they had been heading. “Well, it would be my pleasure.”
They continued their path, leaving Solas behind without even glancing back at him once.
Solas let out an annoyed sigh and rolled his eyes. Of course Felassan was being a gentleman again.
He watched them having an idle conversation while walking towards their destination before he followed with some distance. He wasn’t really interested in taking part in their banter anyway. He let Felassan have this moment; it would be good for his ego. That woman was slightly irritating him anyway.
Still, Solas kept his eyes on her as he trailed behind them.
As they arrived in the grand council hall, the blonde woman immediately searched for her mistress.
The hall was grand, with golden columns and a huge window dome at the top, filling the hall with beautiful light. Ivy decorated the council in an elegant manner, and near the center stood a great walnut tree, its branches reaching up toward the light. The hall was round, the Evanuris sitting at the upper half while there was a lower path beneath them. It was often used for the display of several things, like speeches or some kind of demonstrations. Elgar’nan would sometimes use it to display the strength of his soldiers, having them fight bears or other beasts. Solas had always considered such displays childish, foolish, and entirely without purpose.
“Thank goodness, they haven’t started yet,” the woman accompanying them said in relief as she spotted Ghilan’nain chatting with Elgar’nan. The stress visibly fell from her shoulders. She turned to Felassan and bowed slightly. “You have my sincere gratitude. If I can ever do you a favor, please do not hesitate to ask.”
Felassan just waved it off. “It was my pleasure,” he simply said.
The woman gave him a sincere smile, glanced once over to Solas and looked him up and down before hastily walking over to her mistress.
Only then did Solas appear behind Felassan, his hands still clasped behind his back. He shifted his upper body a little forward, assessing his friend. “Enough flirting for one morning?” he asked dryly.
Felassan turned his head to Solas and grinned. “We’ll see,” he simply said and continued to turn fully towards him. “She seemed to be very nice.”
Solas scoffed. “Yes, well, I too would consider her very nice if those emerald eyes were admiring me.”
Felassan lifted an eyebrow. “Her eyes were green?” he asked. He honestly hadn’t paid much attention to her eye color. He had just been having a nice conversation with her.
Solas’ jaw clenched a little. Why did he remember the color of her eyes? The same eyes which were assessing him with quite a bit of skepticism? Why did he even notice?
Probably because they complemented the red of her vallaslin. He was a painter. He noticed complementary colors, that was all.
Certainly.
“We should take our seats. The meeting will begin shortly,” he said, changing the subject as he walked ahead.
Felassan’s lips twirled into a grin as he caught up to his friend. “Ah yes, first you accuse her of being a slave and now you’re sulking because she didn’t give you any attention.”
“First of all,” Solas started as he took his seat, “she wears vallaslin, hence that she does belong to someone,” he stated and then turned his gaze to Felassan, who had also just taken his seat beside Solas. “And second of all - I am not sulking.”
Felassan chuckled and shook his head in amusement, looking around the hall. “If you say so.”
Mythal arrived and took her seat next to Solas, him being her loyal right hand, her wolf. Solas greeted her with a polite nod as she settled into her seat.
“Anything I missed?” she asked while grabbing a cup of wine which was already waiting in front of her.
Solas shook his head. “No. The meeting hasn’t started yet. They’re all still chatting.”
Mythal scoffed. “Mhm. Should’ve arrived even later then,” she said with a smirk. She turned her head to Solas. “But so far, no abnormalities?”
She had asked him to keep an eye out for anything suspicious and report it to her at once. He was not only her right hand and advisor, but also her spy. Mythal had expressed that she felt uneasy about this year’s gathering before they left her palace. So she had asked him to be particularly attentive this year.
Solas looked to the other side of the grand council hall. The woman with the unfamiliar red vallaslin was actually still standing at council, near her mistress. Why was she even allowed to stay? Solas almost knew every member of this council. She was definitely someone he should have already known about.
But this was certainly not anything worth mentioning to Mythal. She was a servant, perhaps a maid. Nothing suspicious. Not simply because she was irritating him personally.
“No,” he simply answered without turning toward her. “Everything seems to be as we’re used to.”
“Good,” Mythal replied and leaned back, sipping her wine. “Then let us enjoy the upcoming hours.”
The following hours weren’t anything out of the ordinary. Elgar’nan bragging loudly about his victories, Andruil laying out plans for upcoming hunts, June worrying about the maintenance of sanctums. They debated concerns about the children of the stone at some point, but this was, again, nothing uncommon. They talked and debated and disputed, only for nothing to come of it in the end. Just like at every gathering.
Solas started to get a little bored, doodling in a small notebook he always carried with him. Of course he listened, but... capturing the beautiful high arches of this hall seemed more efficient than listening to the same tired speeches of some of the Evanuris. He was well aware that the upcoming weeks would look exactly like this.
He had one foot draped over his knee, the notebook leaning against it as he sketched. Along the balcony his gaze drifted again to the blonde woman standing behind Ghilan’nain.
Their eyes met.
She did not look away.
Solas, on the other hand, felt the sudden urge to look away immediately. But he wouldn’t give her that satisfaction. So he locked eyes with her.
She still held his gaze.
He grew a little irritated. Why was she looking at him like that? It almost felt... defiant? He sat at Mythal’s right. He was well known, well respected.
Yet this unknown woman of Ghilan’nain’s kept her eyes on him. Entirely unashamed and not the least bit obedient, as one might expect a servant to be.
He then lifted a brow as if asking, ‘What?’.
The blonde woman mirrored him.
Was she provoking him? Was she even aware of who he was?
Solas shifted in his seat, lifting his chin slightly in defiance. He was still not giving in. He was too prideful for that.
So he leaned his head slightly forward, as if silently asking again what her goal was.
She mirrored him once again, clearly mocking him.
He rolled his eyes. This was childish.
She did the same.
Solas was about to simply ignore her when he saw it.
She had to hold back a smile.
She seemed amused by their little silent battle, trying very hard not to show it.
And that was when the corner of his own mouth twitched. He leaned back again, a small smirk forming on his lips.
He caught the faintest huff of her laughter before she turned her attention back to the council.
He continued sketching in his notebook.
Hm. Curious woman.
The small smile still lingered on his lips as he began roughly sketching her silhouette, glancing up at her every now and then, only to find her smirking back at him.
Solas shook his head slightly, amused.
He could see her shoulders tremble as she tried to hold back a laugh.