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The joy of having eluvians at their beck and call, was it was now easier than ever for Fausta to get their hands on a bottle of Rivani Red - both the wine and the poison. Tonight, it's the wine swirling in their cup, one of the clear glasses with gold edges left behind by Solas, as they sat, legs stretched wide, slouched in a chair before the fireplace in the dining room.
Lucanis had gone back to Treviso to check on a lead from his informer, and they were mildly relieved. It meant no one was sneaking silently out of the door beside the fireplace, instead, someone was sneaking behind them, less silently, with a metal clang every second step.
Neve pulled a chair up next to them, taking a seat without a word. She sighed, stretching her arms out in front of her, tanned skin cast in hues of orange from the glow of the fire. The silence persisted for a few moments, before Fausta finally spoke.
“Wine?” Fausta asked, tilting the bottle towards her. “I only have one glass though. Well, Solas had one glass. A bit embarrassing if you ask me to only have a singular glass .”
Neve scoffed, holding back a laugh. She reached for the wine, snatching it from their outstretched hand.. She drank from the bottle, ignoring Fausta’s offer of a shared glass, and did so greedily, taking two massive gulps before lowering it and wiping a drop of red from her lips with her thumb.
“So. Weisshaupt.” Neve began, and Fausta hummed, mildly dumbstruck.
“Whaaaat about it?”
“You killed a Tevinter Old God.”
Fausta snorted, the comment snapping them back to reality. “Don’t you remember, God’s aren’t real and don’t exist.”
“ Clearly. ” Neve replied, before her eyes caught on the fire. A log cracked, sending sparks up into the chimney. “It’s strange. You spend so long of your life, not necessarily believing, but being told of the Old Gods. Dragons are in every aspect of our culture, tied to the Magisters that broke the Black City, and just like that. Poof. It was all a lie.”
“Not all of it.” Fausta corrected. “It’s not a lie, just an adjustment.”
“Sure, that adjustment will go over well with the Chantry and the Archon.”
“And my mother.” Fausta muttered after, before tacking on a floating thought that they had been ignoring since speaking with the Dread Wolf. “Suppose that’s just another thing Tevinter stole from the elves.”
Neve cast Fausta a side glance, brow knit as she considered her next words. “How does it ….feel, for you?”
“What? Being an elf and also a vint?” Fausta questions, the last word spitting out of their mouth like venom from their teeth. They take their glass, finishing the drink in it before holding the cup out again. Neve takes it, placing it on the table and handing them the bottle. They raise their brow for half a second before snatching it and drinking heavily.
“It's funny. Outside Tevinter, people hate you because you’re Tevene. Inside Tevinter people hate you because you're an elf. Now me and every other elf who is also Tevinter are seen as the enemy for something our ancestors did. Magistars or evanuris - it's bad the whole way down.”
They ran their hands down their face and sighed deeply, the wine beginning to make the edges of the room fuzzy. Tilting their head, they spread their fingers to look out between them at the woman sitting next to their left.
“I know it's not my fault but I feel responsible to fix it. Isn’t that stupid?”
“Maybe a bit, you’re not the mistakes of your forefathers. You’re your own, new and fresh mistakes.”
“Like letting two elven gods out level fresh mistakes?” They offered, to which Neve shrugged.
“We all have off days.”
Fausta laughed “Which all powerful deity did you piss off?”
“Dumat.” Neve replied without a second of hesitation. “Caught him sleeping with Urthelimel and now he wants me dead.”
They can’t help but laugh again at the serious tone the Dock Town detective took, it pulled a weight off their shoulders. For a brief ten seconds, Fausta forgets Ghilan'nain and archdemons and the smell of rotting flesh and iron of the blight. It's just the two of them, passing a bottle of less than great wine between one another.
“Sulking is a bad look on you.” Neve says once Fausta breaks from their laugh.
“I’m not sulking, I’m brooding .”
“Still an aspect in sulking.”
Fausta shoves her shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”
“ Never , you like me.”
Fausta smiles, a grin that feels a little too giddy given all that has happened. “No shit Detective, what else do you know?”
Neve leans forward, sharing Fausta’s smile. “That you’ll pick yourself up and get us working like a team again soon. Never seen anyone shout at a dragon when they see it, never seen anyone kill an archdemon who isn’t a warden. We’ll get them next time. If the Shadow Dragon’s know anything, it's how to fight.”
Fausta’s shoulders drop, the tension they had been building up lessening within seconds of Neve talking. They took another sip of the bottle. “Thank you, Neve”
“I also know you’ll be hungover tomorrow.”
“Oh fuck you.” Fausta jabs back, ignoring the way the jest and the woman's laugh twists their stomach into knots. Problem for tomorrow, problem for after the Gods are dead.