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One thing Fausta had come to notice about the once-Inquisitor is she was a woman who enjoyed silence and stillness. There was no other way or word Fausta could think to describe it, she was always so still. Like the statues of the archon or of Andraste that stood around Dumat Plaza, on the brink of crumbling but still holding on to all its pieces by one, measly slip of stone lodged between joints.
She’s chosen a spot by the window, leaning against the back of the chair in a position that should imply she’s relaxed, but Fausta knows tension, they see it carried between neck and shoulder, hidden beneath her grey embroidered overcoat.
“Did you rent the whole place out?” Fausta said they pulled their chair back, pausing before they could sit to remove Tooth and Claw from their places at their hips.
“Morrigan can be very persuasive, and the staff discrete with enough gold on the table,” Elona replied, turning her attention away from the swaying waters outside, and to them. As if on cue, a waiter, one Fausta recognized from their frequent trips to the bar but had never gotten the name off arrived, sliding a small, Tevene coffee in front of them, and a crystal teapot in front of Elona. The blooming tea leaves swirled behind translucent sides, the thick, sweet herbal scent - elfroot for migraines, Embrium for stiff joints and old wounds, mint for taste- mixing oddly with that of the dark roast before them.
“Lace informed me you have an affection for dark roasted coffee, poured the Tevene way, ‘Lucanis knows everyone's order!’ is specifically what was added after. It's heartening to see your team working well together.”
Fausta took the metal pour over, slowly beginning to pour into their ceramic mug, twisting it clockwise as they did so, coating the sides in the rich brown drink. “It’s taken us some time, but everyone has come together in a way I could have never imagined. We’ll be ready when the time comes.”
Elona nodded, before falling silent, startlingly green eyes watching as they brought the cup to their mouth and took a sip.
“Do you drink coffee often?” Elona asked after a moment, to which Fausta paused. The question felt like a trick. They weren’t sure why, but it did. They decided to play along, maybe the old hero would slip up, and let something out where they could poke and prod that later.
“Usually, it keeps me going. You’re a big tea drinker then?”
“Yes, I got into the habit of a cup a night when we had been at war with Corypheus. Do you have a favourite food?”
“...Candied orange peels, or vine leaves with rice. It's a tevinter special. You?”
“Fruit cobbler.” A pause, again. “Are your parents elven? Did you live in an allieange?”
At that mention of their upbringing, Fausta shakes their head. “Sorry, no . Just because I don’t wear vallaslin doesn’t mean I automatically lived in an allienage. My parents were human they weren’t nobility but we were well off - What the fuck is all this, an interview?”
The waiter returned, placing a small plate of dried fruits and meats as well as fruits between them. They didn’t linger long
Elona finally reached for her drink and began to pour the tea over the thin, metal grated plate brought with her cup, leaves and petals from the tea catching up top as the tea water flowed effortlessly into the cup.
“I came to get a sense of where your….current mentality rests. I heard some news of the Arlathan Crater from Morrigan, she has eyes and ears everywhere.” Elona placed the teapot back on the table. “And I wanted to personally thank you for saving the Dalish.”
“Well, I can’t take all the credit. I’ll take forty percent of the credit, my team can take another forty, and Solas can take twenty since he did help.” Fausta shrugged as they replied.
Her hand froze on the cup before she drank from it, and there, just there Fausta saw her pause, and still. It’s unlike before, when they had arrived it had been all poise and posturing, a general who just can’t stop long enough to let her guard down - this time it's a surprise, the kind that only comes from a name you weren’t expecting to hear said aloud.
“Did he now?”
Fausta reached for a piece of cheese, popping it into their mouth. “Incredibly helpful, pushed Elgar’nan away enough so we could escape. It felt like old times or something. I’m starting to feel like we’re getting along.”
Elona hummed a small ghost of a smile curling at the corners of her lips as Fausta continued to speak for some reason they had no idea why, the words tumbled out. Maybe she had a right to know, even if this all made them feel like the few times they had gone back and forth between Quintin and Varana during their very rare fights.
“He spoke of you, well, when I asked about you, he replied. A regret he cherished more than most victories-” Fasuta paused then, pinching their brows together “I promise with the tone of voice it sounded much more sincere and heartfelt and not like a personal dig.”
It was to their surprise that the Inquisitor laughed. The noise broke from her throat in a way that made it feel like she had forgotten how to make the sounds. Broken, crisp, a little sharper than a laugh should be. A tiny part of Fausta is proud to have solicited such a reaction.
“ Regret. What a….” Elona shook her head, though she smiled.
“What was he like, to you?” They asked. “Harding can only give me a sense from her time in the Inquisition, and I’ve heard all of Varric’s stories.”
“ Creators . He seemed so…kind, wise, sad. ” There is emphasis on the last word Yeah that one still stands even today, Fausta says just to themselves as Elona continues.
“Yet he looked at me as if I somehow mattered more than anything around us. I often wonder…Ten years ago, maybe I would have followed him to wherever he asked.”
Fausta sat up, snapping to that like a taut bowstring. “And? Did he ask?”
“No, quite the opposite. He forbade me to join him. He didn’t want me to see what he would become. As if I haven’t seen the path he’s carved since, even if from afar. He left enough pieces for us to follow.”
“You think he wants you to stop him?” Fausta questioned with a tilt of their head,
“His name is Solas , it means pride. Perhaps he believed someone else could convince him there is another option, another way.. Or maybe I’m the prideful one, imagining his broken heart so that I never have to face my folly. That I loved someone who made such grave mistakes. That I might love him still.”
The last bit is added as an afterthought, maybe even to herself, and Fausta hums. Suddenly the Inquisitor feels a bit too human. They’d heard stories of the South and the Inquisition, the Tevinter spin on things painting it as an army conquering both Fereldan and Orlais, an enemy to the North - all Venatori propaganda, they knew now. But still, to see the figurehead of such an organization confess sorrows, give advice, to them. It felt odd.
They definitely weren’t qualified for this shit.
“Well, if you ever want to talk to him one-on-one, I’m sure there’s room in that Fade prison for one more.” Fausta pauses just after the suggestion slips from their mouth, “Just, disconnect my mind tether before you do. I don't need to witness a reunion.”
Elona snorts - snorts, an undignified noise from her, but Fausta will take it as a second laugh. “Please, we have a world to save first.”
“What happens after all this, for you?”
Elona turns to look out the window again, eyes fixed on something far away. “I am…unsure. I am not a woman who has much left. The world has moved on from the Inquisition and its work. I have not been back to my clan in years, my daughter and I no longer speak, and I have given everything in this chase to stop him.” She sighed, bringing her remaining hand, still adorning a white leather glove, up to rub across her bottom lip.
“You deserve a happy ending, Inquisitor.”
Her attention snaps back to Fausta instantly and with such intensity, they could wither under the gaze.
“Do you realize what happens to heroes in Thedas? We don’t get happy endings. The Warden-Commander of the fifth blight, Natalie Cousland, has succumbed to the blight. Ayden Hawke, the champion of Kirkwall died in the fade, I had to fight tooth and claw for the chantry not to tear every aspect of Dalishness out of their retellings of me.” She says, finally turning to face them. “So I have to wonder, what kind of hero you will be. What ending do you get, what will the world take from you?”
“They won’t take anything,” Fausta said, defensiveness crawling up their back.
“How can you be so sure?”
“I won’t let them.”
“Your only defence to the tides of history changing the details of your very existence is ...defiance?” Elona posed, and Fausta rolled their eyes.
“You sound like him too sometimes, you know that?”
She smiled, and once again, became still. Whatever walls Fausta had made progress breaking down, the Inquisitor was rapidly building back up. Maybe they had pushed their luck, or the older woman had realized she had let too much slip.
“Keep that spirit. Don’t let them forget. Don’t let them make you human, don’t let them make you a man, a woman, a mage, don’t let them forget you’re Tevinter. If they catch a whiff of your resolve, cracking who you are is gone.” Elona takes a small sip of her tea, testing her strength. Dissatisfied, she poured a little more. “Don’t make the mistakes I did.”
Fausta frowned, glancing at their cup, the last dregs of coffee milling at the bottom. They took the silver ladle and began to pour a second cup, the smell of caffeine permeating around them both.
“The difference between you and I, Lady Lavellan, is you are concerned with how the past will be affected by the present.” They watched as Elona’s brow twisted downwards in confusion. “ I can’t change the past, I can’t force people to perceive me how I want them to. Trust me, I’ve spent so fuckin much of my life changing how I am perceived But I can change the future. I can make it brighter, better so others like me can live freely. That was my mandate with the Shadow Dragons, and that’s my mandate now. Survive day to day, make the world better, I don’t care if I’m forgotten or twisted, as long as I know I made a difference.”
Elona, as silent and as still as that fucking statue in the Plaza, eventually smiled.
“I can see why he might like you.”
Fausta narrowed their eyes. “Why’s that?”
“You, a young rebellious elf who only cares how the world will be changed and now how they will be remembered? Surely he will see no reason to care for your success.”
Fausta paused, frowning and taking their turn to glance out the window. “I’m not like him.”
“There are shades of overlap, but no, at the end of the day and I’m glad you aren’t exactly the same.”
Elona reached forward finally, and took a piece of fried fruit, popping it into her mouth. “But enough about him, catch me up on all that I have missed in the North, then tell me about Neve.”
Fausta laughed and swirled their coffee. When they met the Inquisitor’s eyes, they saw the same thing they always did when they spoke to Solas. Loneliness. Curled the corners, both thinking they’ve hidden it so well, yet all can see it plain as day. Maybe Elona needed this meeting more than Fausta did - so they took a sip of the dark roast and humoured the old general. They both knew when they left the building it would be back to the fight, but for now, a small solace could be taken in the fact no one else understood the fight quite like the other.