CLOSED

[mythalenaste]

WHO: Solas and Pel
WHAT: Pel is going over her notes on the excursion to the Temple of Dirthamen and is trying to make sense of things. Solas might be able to help.
WHEN: Slightly pre-illness-event
WHERE: Skyhold
NOTES: References to horror, dismemberment, all that shit that went down in Dirthamen.

Since his return, Pel has had the impression that Solas does not like her. Today, someone told her he's like that with everyone. No point in avoiding him, then.

She approaches him in his little study--a spot she walks through every day on her way to work in the library--carrying a wad of notes and feeling a little shy, despite herself. Not of him, necessarily, but of the situation. This has been a mystery she has taken no joy in unraveling, this horror her people wrought so long ago. But this is why she is doing this. The elves must embrace the bad with the good--if there is any good--if they are going to benefit from learning their own history.

"Solas?"

Comments

[mythalenaste]

She watches him closely, weighing him before deciding to speak of this.

"Right now, people are using Sina and Galadriel as an excuse for violence against elf mages. This magic is...I don't want to hide anything. I really believe that unveiling our history will make us seem more like people in everyone's eyes. The magic we found is just that bad. We might want to wait till things are calmer before risking it."

[singularwill]

"Are they. Are they doing so silently, somehow? I've not seen or heard anything of the nature."

But that wasn't the point.

"Tell me."

[mythalenaste]

Her lips tighten. She doesn't want to tell a stranger of this particular first-hand experience. But he has a fair point. She's not sure if there's been anyone besides her.

"The high priest of the temple was going to seal the temple with all the priests inside. As retaliation, the other priests dismembered him and kept his body parts alive in braziers of Veilfire. His spirit was...trapped, somehow. Not quite alive or dead, but unable to pass on."

[singularwill]

His face is expressionless as she speaks - there's no shock, no gasp, nothing. He seems to be waiting for her to continue, and when she seems to be waiting for him, he makes a small motion for her to continue.

"And?"

[mythalenaste]

"That sort of magic has to weaken the Veil terribly. There wasn't any reason to risk it on their part, when they could've killed him. But if I'm mistaken, I want to know. If the ancient elves had a way of doing something like that casually, without hurting the Veil, it means I can't rule out the thought of them using it often. I want to know why that magic exists."

[singularwill]

"I think you are misunderstanding the lengths to which people will go, to render cruelty." He murmured.

"As for what the Ancient Elves could do with the veil... I am not sure how much I can tell you. Most of that magic has been lost. What I've learned, I've learned in the Fade. That they had powers far beyond our current reckoning is clear. I have seen things far beyond the scope of current magics. You make an assumption that they would care whether they hurt the Veil, or not."

[mythalenaste]

So. It probably is as bad as she believes. She takes a long, deep breath, and lets it out. Well.

"I guess there might be reasons they used Veilfire and Veilfire runes so freely. They were just...puncturing the Veil as it pleased them. Maybe you're right. They just didn't care."

She bobs her head.

"Thank you. I'll...think of something to say in my report." She clears her throat. "What did you mean, about learning things in the Fade?"

[singularwill]

"Who can say. I don't see what harm could be done, by simply saying what you saw. The Dalish aren't the ancient elves, however much they wish they were. Holding them on a pedestal helps no one. Lying to save face for something that has so little effect on anyone living is pointless."

"I mean exactly what I said. Everything I have learned, I have learned through my journeys in the Fade. I am no circle mage, nor Dalish. There is much to learn from the spirits, for those willing to listen."

[mythalenaste]

He's right. She can't hide this just because she's afraid. She wanted to find elven history, warts and all, and she has found it. She has to remain true to what she knows is right.

It takes her a moment to process what he's saying. She blinks, shaking herself free of the clouds, and looks at him.

"That's...I've never heard of anyone managing that. Are you somniari?"

[singularwill]

"Somniari?" He repeats the word while arching an eyebrow.

"Are even dreams the sole realm of Tevinter, now? No. I am no Tevinter mage. I dream, as the elves have done for centuries. I dream, and I learn. If you have not heard of it, then that is your fault, not mine."

[mythalenaste]

"The first somniari were elves," Pel says warily. "People with extraordinary control over their dreams. Most people can't do that nowadays."

Does he think he's more of an elf than she is? What is his problem with her?

"I'm trying to learn, that's all. If you've seen things in the Fade that I can't, then that's...completely invaluable. Do you have something against the Dalish, or is it just me?"

[singularwill]

"No. The first Dreamers were elves. Somniari was the word Tevinter gave the practice, to claim it, as they did much of the rest of Elvhen culture."

He narrows his eyes slightly.

"Something against you, personally? I don't even know you. But I know what you are raised in, the belief structure that created you. Why would I have anything against a culture that is so completely convinced of their knowledge, that claims to speak for all elves? That claims to know what it good for all elves, and yet knows so very little of their own history and culture?"

[mythalenaste]

There it is. That's why she had the impression he doesn't like her. Zevran, Katniss, seemingly Kallian, and now Solas.

She lets out a deep breath.

"Ir abelas. My people expect everyone who's not us is an enemy. It's a problem. Tevinter and Orlais took away our history, but they're not taking it away anymore. We've just stopped trying. I'm not here because I think I know things. I'm here because I want to know things. And there are others here who want the same. The truth, whatever it is."

[singularwill]

"You came here expressly with the desire to hide the truth," he pointed out, his words a little blunt.

"You came to tell me of magic you had witnessed that did not fit with your polished, perfect worldview that the Dalish have given you, and you wanted to hide it. That is not wanting the truth."

[mythalenaste]

"That's not why. Someone was attacked and beaten about a month ago, for being an elven mage. What happens if the Inquisition makes it known that elves have rediscovered that magic? Which do I follow, my calling to protect or my calling to find the truth?"

[singularwill]

"Have they?" He asked.

"Has witnessing it allowed you the knowledge of how to use it? Could you now twist a person's soul into many parts and leave it scattered, never to allow them to pass into death? And even if it did - would pretending that you never learned it somehow protect you, when it turned out that you could? Who are you protecting, save yourself? Others will always find reason to hate elves. That someone was beaten is hardly a surprise."

[mythalenaste]

There's a long, long pause, after which she gives him a faint nod. A wordless acknowledgement that he is mostly right.

She just really, really hates it. She hates how he sees through everything, how naked she feels in front of him. How like a misbehaving child, after being expected to be an adult since the age of nine.

"An elf's default state of being is as a corpse, Solas. If you had people to protect in a place growing ever more hostile, would this be easy for you?"

[singularwill]

"An elf's default state of being is as a corpse?" He repeats, the incredulity obvious in his voice.

"Do you not live? Do you not breath? Do you not dream? The Ancient Elves are dead, yes. Nearly nothing of them remains. The Dalish may be fools but they are not dead. The world is not growing hostile, da'len. It is hostile. It has been hostile for far longer than either of us has witnessed. Only children expect things to be easy, or simple."

[mythalenaste]

Pel can respect someone who is direct with her. Her life is full of indirectness, and it hurts. At least she doesn't have to discern hidden intentions, with him. As maddening as it is, it's the most honest anyone has been with her in her life.

Maybe he's right. She is expecting things to be simple. Cynicism is pretty simple. Hiding in the woods, away from the dangers of other civilizations, is simple. And this is the world she has chosen to be part of. In this world, the old tricks don't keep you alive. In this world, you're just alive. Is that how it is for most people? Being alive means more than being not-dead-yet?

"We're not fools," she rasps. "Primitive. Always on the run. So occupied with staying alive that we aren't very good at anything else, and not even very good at that. But we're trying. Trying to keep our identity, and preserve it for those who want to find it again. We haven't the benefit of learning from other cultures. And that's partly our own fault."

She swallows. Her voice clears a little when she does so.

"What would you have of us? What should the Dalish be?"

Those are not questions she expected to be asking sincerely.

[singularwill]

"You aren't keeping an identity. You are perpetuating ignorance. You cling to traditions that you don't understand the roots of, and turn away all original thought."

He was getting annoyed now. He couldn't help it - couldn't help himself, and it was an old, old argument that had almost nothing to do with Pel herself.

"Do not ask me what the Dalish should be. As if I am some wise creature who will finally set you on the right path. Think. Observe. Learn. I am not here to tell the Dalish what they should be."

[mythalenaste]

"And I am not some power that would bend the People to your will even if you had suggestions." Intimidating as he can be, she's gotten too impatient to allow him to keep treading all over her. Who does he think he is? She gave him a chance. All his keen insight, and he thought she was deferring just by asking. Telling her to think, as if she has to be commanded in order to do so. "But if you have criticisms about my people, you should at least have better ideas as well. Instead of being a pretentious prick, criticizing without bothering to think up an alternative. That's the easiest job, isn't it? Meanwhile, I have an actual job to do."

She turns and marches her way back to the library.