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Fandom Lathbora Veran


Neren Lavellan


 


The dark horrors of the past day lurked just behind Neren’s thoughts. She acted like they didn’t bother her, she had to be strong. Around these new people, all the shems that seemed to be looking to her like she was a saviour sent from there God Andraste himself. It was odd to think, hard to believe and hard to swallow. But she had come to grips with it, at least for the moment. Neren really had to considering she went from being one of the most wanted people in Thedas to being just that. A Saviour.​




 


How does the coin flip so quickly?​




 


Neren always yearned to know about the world outside of her Clan. While she feared the humans, there anger and fear of the different twisted into complete senseless war, she still found them fascinating all the same. Now finding herself around them, she could understand why her people stared away most of the time. The term ‘knife ear’ and ‘rabbit’ had been uttered her way in the beginning, while demining at the beginning she found herself just ignoring it. For the most part.​




 


The mark had something to do with that she suspected, the mark that had chosen her to become something bigger then anything she had ever asked about. Yes, Neren had wanted to learn about the outside world. Yes, she wanted adventure but never did she ask to be some kind of Saviour—the weight of the peoples hopes was already straining her and this was just the beginning. Deep down, Neren hoped that the Breach would be sealed quickly and without to much mess so that she could go back to her quiet boring life.​




 


That was wishful thinking of course, but no one had to know that she was hoping that.​




 


“You’re not listening at the moment are you Herald.” Cassandra’s quick words cut Neren’s thoughts short and she flinched a bit, recovering and hoping no one else had seen such action of weakness.​




 


“I am listening. I apologize, it has been a long day.” Neren spoke rubbing the back of her neck looking to the ground feeling a slight wash of guilt arise inside her. They had so much planning, preparing for everything and here she was just wishing it to be all be over. Like it would be as easy as she had thought in her innocent little mind.​




 


“It has, and you can leave in just a bit. We have yet to come to the conclusion what our next move is.” Josephine spoke up, Neren had a hard time understanding her, a heavy accent from a place she hadn’t known much about rolled off her tongue. It was interesting though and Neren enjoyed listening to her speak.​




 


“I say we go to the Cross Roads in the Hinterlands. Mother Giselle has made camp there. She has better standing with the Clerics, perhaps she can give a good word for the Inquisition.” Lilianna spoke pointing to the area on the War Table.​




 


“There will be battles all around that area. The Apostates and Templars have gone mad, if we can also find a way to get those two groups to calm there forces we could earn some points with the common folk around these parts.” Cullen spoke earning a nod from the rest of the group. Neren found Commander Cullen to be an interesting fellow, straight to the point and hard but she could tell, deep down he had a kind heart. He cared for his men more then his own life, he actually reminded her of her brother completely.​




 


That thought brought a wave of homesickness that she quickly shoved away before putting on her game face. “I can take a small party that way, I’m sure we can get them to see reason.” Neren spoke crossing her arms over her chest.​




 


“Positive attitude, we need more of that. Alright, leave when you are ready.” Lilianna spoke nodding her head in agreement.​




 


“That mean I can go take a little rest then?” Neren spoke feeling a sudden jolt of energy at the sudden door to freedom, she wanted to get out of that room. Let her mind wander and get used to her new surroundings.​




 


“Of course. Be prepared before you leave, don’t leave anything to chance. But I doubt I have to tell you that.” Cullen chuckled shaking his head before Neren gave a small nod to the three of them. She heard Cassandra groan a moment but she was already leaving out of the room and starting to go out of the building.​




 


The moment she opened the door the blinding sun hit her face warming her nose before it got cold once more by the chill that lingered in the air. It was a welcoming feeling, Neren stood for a moment just enjoying the fresh air before starting to walk down the path.​




 


One thing she hadn’t gotten used to was the whispers and stares. Neren was a private person—always had been. It was why she chose the bow, never had to show her face when hunting, never had to be seen at all. It was what she always liked.​




 


Neren suddenly came to a stop looking a path seeing a new companion she had met on the recent adventure. An elf, apostate who went by the name Solas. He fascinated her , she wasn’t sure why but he did. Anyone with magic did though, and his knowledge about the Breach also intrigued her.​




 


Before she knew it her feet had brought her to the bald elf with the strong jaw and keen eyes. His cool grey eyes lingered on the hole that stared up at the sky.​




 


“I hope you aren't seeing anything else falling from the sky.” Neren asked cursing inside. Why was that she spoke of all things?​
 
The freshly fallen snow glittered in the sun, and little specks of light caught gentle swirls of snowflakes as they fell quietly from the sky. Stepping lightly down an un-tread path, crossed his arms in front of his torso. The calmness was disconcerting; hadn't it been only a week since the disruption of the Breach and only slightly longer since the magister - if such a creature could be called as much, held his orb in his hands? Solas stopped abruptly in his tracks, the corner of his mouth quirking sharply downward. He had been so close to unlocking the Eluvian, to tearing down the veil. The small tears that scarred the sky now only increased the suffering; a slow, painful destruction as compared to a merciful, quick one. This was not the way things were supposed to be.


Lacing his arms behind his back, Solas continued through the snow, leaning slightly forward as he cast his gaze downward, away from the sky. As he drew closer to the village, his thoughts turned to his second miscalculation, his second failure, the Dalish elf. She was not meant to be a part of the equation; it might very well have been that her presence had been what disturbed the ritual, causing the Orb to be lost. He recounted the flash of anger he had directed towards her as he stood next to her bedside, fighting the mark's magic as it threatened to take her life, and how quickly, he loathed to admit, that anger fell away to pity as she cried, half-consciously, in pain. His fascination with the mark, however, remained consistent, and thus his interest in the elf remained nearly as strong. Why her?


The sharp snap of a branch interrupted Solas' thoughts, and his eyes quickly slid to the direction of the noise, while he turned his head more cautiously. He relaxed as he saw the creature before him. A halla - a young doe - stood mere yards away from him, concealed partially by the trees and foliage. Solas tilted his head in surprise; it was unusual that a halla would venture so close to a village, especially in the winter-time its pelt would be particularly valued. The young halla's eyes met Solas', gauging him apparently without concern. He stayed still during the scrutiny, slightly unnerved by the clarity in which the halla looked at him, until she turned away from him, trotting quietly away.


He heard the Chantry bells ring as her approached Haven, and he quickly came to rest in a small clearing slightly secluded from the rest of the village. He had no desire to interact with the townspeople, who more often than not regarded him with fear or distaste, or otherwise attempted to preach to him about the descendance of the Herald of Andraste, who would surely save them from what was to come. Solas had no tolerance for the naïve faith the townspeople placed in their God and Savior, for even if they were to exist, in what way were they obligated to serve every individual's whim? A tendril of bitterness crept into Solas' throat, and he attempted to swallow it as he turned his gaze to the broken sky, searching, maybe, for some solution to this forsaken mess.


So consumed in his thoughts, Solas did not notice the slight figure walking softly towards him until she spoke, causing him to blink in surprise. Adjusting his stance slightly so he was angled both to the Breach and the woman, Solas quirked his eyebrows wryly at her remark. "Only snow, if that is of any concern to you," Solas said, his expression betraying nothing, but his voice laced with humor.
 

Neren Lavellan




Neren took only a moment before being unable to stifle the chuckle that escaped her lips. It had been a long day, a long day filled with very serious people and topics. Topics that she knew had to be discussed. Topics she really hadn’t any point in being involved but here she was. A Beacon of Hope. A thought she still shuddered at the thought of. Perhaps it would become easier to get used to once she got a bit of well-earned sleep.


“Not much of a concern. I haven’t seen this much snow since I was a child. It hardly snows were my Clan likes to make its journeys.”Neren admitted shifting her stance, hearing the crunch of the snow under her feet as she shifted. “Snow is better to see falling then more demons or tears. That is for sure.” Neren spoke up once more barely able to keep her gaze locked into Solas’ intense gaze. His expression hardly changed as he spoke, it was the same when she first met him but humor lingered behind his stiff, proper outer coating. It was a humor that Neren could use at the moment to relax a bit after such a long couple of hours.


“I hope I am not bothering you, I just thought I would make some kind of rounds and talk with my new comrades. You know…After everything that has happened over the past week.” Neren nervously shrugged her shoulders, before crossing her arms over her chest to stare up at the green hole in the sky.


“It’s slightly strange how something so dangerous can be oddly so beautiful.” Neren admitted truthfully watching nothing but the sky at that very moment. Staring at such a wonder had Neren thinking about things she wished she could ask. Answeres she wished someone would answer, questions that she realized almost in the first moment she met Solas that he could answer. But her fear of asking him such things lingered deep inside in case of coming off as a bothersome child. Her questions lingered close to the surface of her tongue, close to frothing over in a waterfall that would no doubt bother any normal person.
 
Solas shifted his stance so that he was directly facing Neran as she continued to speak, the corner of his mouth twitching subtly in amusement as she rambled anxiously, feeling almost as though he were a bystander of a conversation she was having with herself, her thoughts darted from one thing to the next. In some way, Neran's nervousness gave him relief. She held no false confidence, no pronounced arrogance at having been donned the title of Herald of Andraste, as he knew so many would. Nor, however, did she cry of the unfairness of being chosen for could not understand or even remember. Solas' eyes slid to the mark on her hand, dormant, but ever-present. Surely Neran recalled part of that night, or if not a comprehendible scene, then at least the pain as the mark pulsed from within her skin, tearing through her hand? Why, then, did she not inquire about it? It would be only natural to express a certain degree of curiosity over a thing which had nearly taken her life.


Ah, but she did have questions; Solas could see them poised on the tip of her tongue as she gazed at the torn sky. He listened intently as she spoke of the Breach, her voice devoid of any fluctuation, any hint that she may not be speaking genuinely. He pressed his lips together, mentally phrasing his words before responding. "I do not think it to be that strange at all. Many dangerous things are also beautiful: lightning storms over a tree-barren valley, the fire of a dragon in the night sky. Maybe it is unexplainable, but it is not so strange."


After speaking, Solas smiled good-naturedly with a touch of dry amusement. "And do not worry about being bother. I've encountered far more individuals of... disagreeable dispositions than I'd care to admit. Your company is a relief."  
 
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Neren Lavellan


Neren took a breath in threw her nostrils and out threw her mouth, she had been unaware of the closed feeling in her chest she had been holding captive for the past few days till that moment. She was relaxing, or coming close to it. With the brisk late afternoon air lingering over her skin and around her, Neren let her arms fall to her sides as she heard Solas start painting a scene with only his words. Lightening, fire from a dragon—all things were beautiful but highly dangerous. Just like the very Breach in the sky. And he agreed with her. From the others that she had met it seemed that they were much more serious about the giant hole in the sky.


Course she could understand. The hole was a sign of great evil, and change to come. The end times as some people were saying. But as dangerous as it was, it held a mysterious beauty that surged threw her whole body. Perhaps it was only the mark, she felt somewhat connected to it. Drawn to it.


But it wasn’t in a good way, not entirely.


“You paint an interesting picture, Solas. Calming almost.” Neren admitted shrugging her right shoulder once more taking her eyes off the sky to turn her full attention back to Solas as he spoke once more, she listened intently, anticipating him to say the complete opposite of what he said, she saw his eyes fall to her hand, the one with the mark. Could it be that he had questions about it too? It was a possibility right? Varric had mentioned earlier that Solas had been the one to keep her alive when they found her at the temple.


She remembered snippets. Fire, a hot pain that started in her hand and shot threw her body racking every nerve inside. Being singed by a hot blade against her skin. What lingered the most was the pain, the pain she remembered and it still was very present. But Neren could tolerate it, she hoped and prayed silently to the gods for some kind of comfort, if only for now while she got used to it.


“Really, well that’s…a relief in its self. Though I have a feeling I am being compared to something you have seen in the Fade?” She smirked a bit before swallowing once more gathering her words carefully. “I have questions. About the mark, about the Breach, the Fade too. I have hardly heard anyone actually dream and go there willingly. Granted I have no abilities with magic—but it’s fascinating.”
 
Solas regarded Neran's movements carefully as she digested his words, from the gradual looseness of her stance, and the increasing openness of her demeanor. Yet, even as she spoke, he could not help the brief dash of surprise that flickered through his eyes. She was not made uncomfortable by the intimacy of such conventionally opposing concepts, which most, especially in the case of the Breach, would hesitate to accept. His curiosity peaked once more; was it possible that the mark may have influenced her mentally in some way, creating a bond between her and the Breach that allowed her to see deeper, to reach farther than others?


Solas watched as Neran tore her gaze away from the sky, its tear glowing a fuzzy green in the snow. He smirked in return as she addressed him, offering a wry tilt of his head. "In some cases, yes, the spirits in the Fade may pose concern.  Generally, however, they are content to let me make my way peacefully. It is true, that more often than not, it is the company of men that I hold the least toleration for. They are not nearly as forgiving, and ten times as prideful." A combination, he knew, that brought upon blind ignorance and an easily wounded ego. Solas' eyes briefly found Neran's vallaslins, mentally tracing the dark, heavy lines that twisted beneath her cheekbones. His fingers twitched. No, they had not been nearly as forgiving.


Mala suledin nadas; dirthara-ma.


Darkly, Solas turned away from his thoughts as Neran paused, her eyes gradually becoming serious as the remnants of amusement dissipated. After careful consideration, she spoke, and Solas found that once again, the young elf had surprised him. His anger became more subdued as he considered Neran's words with interest. It was unusual, that an individual unpracticed in the art of magic would hold such curiosity about the Fade, and let alone speak of it without paranoia or fear. Questions concerning the Breach, he had anticipated; the void in the sky was quite a popular topic among the town folk, and Neran, in particular, reserved a right to inquire of its nature. But, as he thought longer, was a such a stretch that she had connected the two, had recognized that the Breach was merely a small window into the world of the Fade, and consequently came to the conclusion that understanding the Fade was infinitely more important? Perhaps their Herald was more perceptive than he had realized.


Solas inclined his head toward Neran, an unreadable expression crossing his face. "Indeed it is. Very few venture purposely into the Fade, because to them, it represents the unknown, the dark world where familiarity ceases to exist. However, it is not as unfamiliar as they believe. The Fade is created by ideas and dreams and longings, of which every being contributes; in essence, it is emotion brought to life in a tangible world. Without those feelings, those desires, the Fade would not exist." He pause, gazing at Neran carefully. "We have all experienced the Fade in some way; we glimpse it every night as we fall asleep. It is only the matter of traveling there physically that requires more focus and discipline.


"The Breach, I believe, is a physical gateway into that world, but, as you have no doubt noticed, the gateway is not one-sided. It is a spirit's nature to leave the Fade, to exist in a concrete from in the physical world. They swarm to the Breach like moths attracted to the light, constant, and unthinking. The mark that you bear acts as a key to that gateway, and the others that exist throughout this world. With it, you hold the power to seal, as well as open those tears in the Fade, an extraordinary ability," Solas offered Neran a small smile. "And an extraordinary amount of pressure." 


 
 

Neren Lavellan




Neren hung onto every word that fell from Solas’ informed mouth. She found herself staring intently at him watching his face, wondering, wanting to make sense of everything he was explaining. She watched his features change from a light expression to a dark, brooding one within moments of each other before becoming back to his unreadable expression that seemed to be his relaxed state. He had thought about something that bothered him in that moment, she wasn’t sure what it was but she knew that he had had it.


Preferring not to dwell on such a minor action Neren went back to listening to what he had to say, he seemed to almost enjoy explaining it to her, perhaps teaching was something he enjoyed. Neren was finding it easier then she had first anticipated to understand what he was saying. Bringing it up, she knew that it was going to be throwing a curve ball—she had little knowledge of magic and even less knowledge of the Fade. Only the bit that her brother talked about back home and that was barely anything. The magic that one had to possess and learn to step into the Fade in ones dreams wasn’t something she had thought her people knew. But Solas did? The more she thought about it the more intrigued she became.


With every word he said though she found the amount of pressure weighing on her shoulders, becoming impossible to truly ignore.  Neren brought her hand to view taking a look upon the green mark etched upon her palm. This little mark that glowed on her hand was the key to everything, they all weren’t sure how but it had to be. Perhaps, this was what the person—whoever it was who killed the Divine and created the Breach—had wanted. A very way to and from the Fade. A way to bring and control of the Spirits that dwelled there?


More questions arrived and she frowned a bit before looking back up to Solas’ face.


“Do Spirits yearn to come into this side of the Fade? If so don’t they become demons? Why is that?” Neren asked looking to her hand again before letting it fall back to her side taking a breath. His words had struck deep in her—he was right. This mark was truly a gift. Or a curse. The amount of pressure, she was the one who had to seal it once they got the help from the Templars or the Rebal mages. It couldn’t be anyone else only her.


And for all she knew it very well could kill her.


Letting a nervous laugh fall from her mouth she gave Solas a small smile before sighing slightly and nodding her head. “More pressure added each and every moment. It’s a good thing I’m a dependable person otherwise I could have ran far away already.” She joked before shaking her head, realizing it probably wasn’t funny.  “Makes you wonder what kind of person would want to create such a hole in the sky, how they created it. There had to be an object or a spell they learned from somewhere. It can't be that they just 'stumbled across or given' the means in which to create it.”
 
Solas inclined his head as Neran inquired about the spirits, taken somewhat off-guard by the question, and considered her briefly, noting the genuine curiosity brimming her eyes as she let her arm fall to her side. He found himself pleasantly surprised by Neran's interest in the Fade and its inhabitants; it was not often that he came across individuals who expressed any particular desire to discuss the spirit world, and even more rare that a non-mage met him with anything but contempt and fear when the subject was raised. Solas offered Neran a small, approving smile. He had been wrong to judge her so quickly; she was... different, even if he didn't completely understand why. Dalish beliefs reflected tradition, and were held with a stubborn zeal. They remained rooted in the past, or what they perceived to be the past, choosing to believe what they had always been told, the comfortable and unchanging, and pushed away anything that contradicted their values. But yet, as Solas looked upon Neran, he couldn't help but wonder if she hadn't been the only one he'd misjudged.


"A spirit's desire to cross through the Fade is fueled by the burning need to experience emotion and existence in a concrete form. Whereupon the Fade is home to ideas and dreams, spirits long to express them in way that is entirely real." Solas paused, loosely clasping his hands as he carefully considered his words.


"I told you that everyone experiences the Fade through dreams, but, as I am sure you know, those experiences are not the same as the ones you have when you are awake. Dreams are shadows, always leaving you wanting more, or leaving you grateful that they are only that, dreams. Spirits long for more... more feeling, more life; they will do anything to attain it. Demons are that desire gone wrong. Their emotions are twisted and corrupted beyond what they originally were - spirits of passion may become demons of lust, a spirit of wisdom may become a Pride demon," Solas glanced at Neran, watching her eyes. "Many believe spirits and demons to be separate entities, but in truth, the line that divides them is not so clear." The line was never clear; the world was too complex to divide into right and wrong, into good or evil. There were only choices that harmed more, and choices that harmed less. Even then the choices were not distinct.


Solas drew her attention back to Neran as she laughed anxiously, trying to make light of a serious situation. "Would you run away if so much did not already depend on you?" He inquired, his face devoid of pre-disposed judgment. He was curious if Neran felt bound to Haven only because of a sense of duty, or perhaps guilt that she may in some way be partially responsible for the tearing of the veil.


As Neran questioned the origin of the Breach, Solas felt himself mentally tense, slightly wary. He knew questions such as this one were bound to come up eventually; he needed to remain vague, truthful except for what he omitted. "There are few powerful magi who would find opening the veil to be permissible; the distraction may benefit them, clearing the way for access to more power. As for how the veil could be torn," Solas glanced at the mark on Neran's hand, "you are right. It is unlikely that the perpetrator merely stumbled upon the means to do so. Somehow they must have come into possession of ancient knowledge regarding magic, or had assistance from another greatly acquainted with such matters."
 

Neren Lavellan




Neren gave a small nod of her head as she followed Solas as he explained more of her question, causing it to be clearer. At least in a sense. Nothing was ever black and white—grey lingered more often for everyone’s choices. Nothing was just good and nothing was just bad. The grey stayed and made everything confusing, making all decisions even more difficult. It made sense to create more twists and turns when it came to the demons and spirts that occupied the Fade. “Nothing ever seems to be straight forward anymore, guess that is growing up.” Neren chuckled a bit once more, starting to find herself annoying. Perhaps she should leave and allow Solas to himself, she hated the idea if she was bothering him.


His question towards her caused her throat to close ever so slightly. Would she really be gone that fast if she wasn’t found in the center of it? This incident wasn’t just directed towards the Humans, even her Clan knew that the meeting at the Conclave was something bigger and now with the Divine dead and most of who attended the Conlave as well---it was much bigger then anything she could truly comprehend.


“If I wasn’t smack in the middle of everything I think I would still help.  I wouldn’t run, even if the fear would be there.” Neren admitted sighing a bit. “Everyone knows this is bigger then anything. End times might be pushing it but something or someone is out there feeling like they could run the world better.” Neren shrugged her shoulders shaking her head.


Neren brought her hand up so she could stare at it a moment before seeing Solas taking a glance at the mark that laid burned into her palm, itching at the very being of Neren. “Almost sounds like ancient magic that wasn’t supposed to have landed in the wrong hands. “ Neren admitted thinking about all the mysteries that lingered deep in the lands of Thedas that people couldn’t explain, the Elvhan culture was scattered with such lore. Magic was something in abundance in the beginning times before the fall—Perhaps what was used was something like that?


Neren shook her head pushing the thought away, why such thoughts suddenly appeared in her mind she wasn’t sure it wasn’t like she truly knew much about such matters. In her clan she was nothing but a Hunter, a scout. Keeping out of sight and out of mind was what she was good at. One of the main reasons she had been chosen to be at the Conclave in the first place.


“Varric and Cassandra will be accompanying me to the Hinterlands—leaving as soon as we are ready…If you are willing and wanting to join us. We make a good team…I think anyways.”  Neren took a breath unsure why she was bringing up such a matter know. Such a blathering fool who had been thrown into some kind of role of leadership—hopefully Neren would grow into the role otherwise everyone was in trouble. But she felt like if she kept asking question after question to him she might be pushing his polite button a little too far—small steps. If he agreed to accompany Cassandra, Varric and herself then it would prove that he would be staying longer, and that would in turn mean more opportunities to ask him all the questions her little heart needed.


He just had to agree with her question.
 
"Indeed it is," Solas said, dipping his slightly in a subtle nod. He could no longer recall any memories from his childhood, only fleeting recollections of colors and senses; it was like a half-remembered dream, surreal and unreachable. At times he wondered if he had ever been a child at all. Perhaps that would be easiest; it was impossible to forget something that was never experienced, and useless to grasp at memories that did not exist. "But perhaps it is also for the best. Recognizing the complexities of our world inspires greater thirst for understanding, even of things that we find detestable or strange. If we are to succeed in combatting the Breach, and more importantly, the force behind it, understanding of the inner workings of our enemy and of the Fade itself will be key." Hopefully, when the time came, Neran would be able to understand his motivations as well. That sudden desire, for the intention behind his actions, to be accepted, forgiven, surprised him. It would not matter what anyone thought of him in the end, so why did it matter now? Somewhat disturbed, Solas blinked, shaking the question from his mind.


Solas smiled encouragingly at Neran's next words. "I had no doubt. The outcome of this event will affect everyone, and perhaps even the very structure of this world. It would be foolish, but not unusual, to run from something that cannot be escaped; you do not strike me as one to resort to ignorance in the face of adversary." The statement was genuine, and came easily to him, devoid of the caution which had been required when speaking of the Breach and the events at the Conclave. That was not to say he hadn't noticed her hesitancy, or the self-conscious nature in which she spoke, but Neran also possessed a certain determination and sense of duty that many others did not. She would learn to develop confidence in time; fortitude, on the other hand, was not something that could be taught.


Solas watched Neran carefully as she examined the mark on her, considering it thoughtfully. He tilted his head at her comment, contemplating how to respond. "You speak of magic although it is a tool, something that can be wielded by adept hands and a capable mind. In part, that is true; it takes a great deal of patience and no small level of skill to work with magic effectively, but magic is much more than a useful weapon at our disposal. It takes on a life of its own, unpredictable and energetic. It is everywhere, ever-present, even when we do not call upon it. Therefore, it is impossible for it to fall into the wrong hands because remains accessible to everyone with the mind to acknowledge and interact with it." No, there was no lack of magic in this world. That was not the problem; the barriers that prevented the physical and emotional realms from meeting were.


As Neran invited him to join her party to the Hinterlands, Solas smiled slightly. Of course, he would have offered to venture forth even if she had not approached him, but her invitation was...welcome. "I would be glad to join you," Solas said, nodding his head in appreciation. "Although," He noted, somewhat wistfully, "I suppose this means I will have to continue to put up with Varric's abhorred nickname."
 
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Neren Lavellan


 


Shifting her stance Neren looked back to Solas watching his expression change ever so slightly as he spoke. From such a brief conversation with the man she detected some kind of guilt—perhaps pain from him. But hidden, shut out. Perhaps it came with his reasoning for traveling alone, or everything he had seen in his life. Being able to travel the Fade had to come with seeing unimaginable scenes that stories and tales could never do justice. It was like he said—it held the truth, the spirits that had seen and lived the scenes knew better than anyone. Of course, this was all speculation, thoughts kept inside Neren’s mind as she listened and kept his information in her mind. He brought up the things that she, as a good leader, would have to take into consideration.


“I never thought of magic like that…“ She admitted feeling a little foolish for thinking such a thing, but that foolish feeling was soon gone, replaced with more questions. If magic was everywhere, would that mean that anyone could truly learn it? She had read bits and pieces of her ancient writings that back in the time of her people—everyone had magic. It was a question that, perhaps when she had more time, she would ask Solas. He seemed to know even more then her keeper or at least more information on different matters.


Upon hearing that he was going to join on the quest Neren gave a smile of excitement before cringing at his sudden apprehensiveness, she was sure he was thinking of taking it back, but with the last comment she was unable to hid her grin. “Chuckles.”  Neren spoke to him unable to withhold her own chuckle, but succeeding in covering it with her hand. “Yes, I heard it. It could be worse you know, more creative then Herald.” Clearing her throat, Neren took a few steps back smiling at him. “Wonderful, I look forward to it. We will be meeting by the gate in the next half hour or so. Thank you again, Solas.” With a slide nod, Neren rushed off feeling slightly like a child but getting away before becoming to flustered seemed like the best plan for her to keep some kind of dignity.


 


~~Hours later, after a long day of defending the Crossroads and chatting with Mother Giselle the group finds themselves huddled around a campfire enjoying the heat and the clear, black sky littered with sparkling stars~~




“We will need to choose will be doing the first watch tonight.” Cassandra spoke above the crackling fire towards Neren, who had taken it upon herself to take off the armor she wore attending to the few wounds she had on her arms, most just small scratches that were hardly anything to worry about. Her armor lay beside her in a small pile. After finishing with that task she started the next, creating new arrows out the few trees she had gathered when getting the firewood earlier on.


Looking from her task, Neren rubbed the back of her neck looking to the sky and the surrounding area before nodding her head. “If it needs to be decided right at this moment, I can volunteer.” Neren spoke earning a raised eyebrow from Cassandra—not that Neren really noticed she was focused on her task of making more arrows.


“You seem exhausted, I don’t think you should be the first one. Perhaps, Varric should be the one volunteering.” Cassandra drawled looking over to Varric a moment with a disgruntled expression.


“I need to make myself some new arrows anyways, I used up a lot in that last fight.” Neren admitted looking to her partly empty quiver. It was the emptiest it had been in a long time, only when hunting to prepare for a long travel did it look like this and never had she used it on fellow men. The bodies lingered in her mind, etched for all eternity, much like every event of the past few days.


“You are very skilled with that bow, sneaky hiding in the trees and pounce without so much of a sound.” Cassandra spoke dropping the subject for the time being. “I would have thought you would have been a mage like Solas, but I suppose I shouldn’t judge you just because you are an elf.” She admitted turning to look at Solas for a moment. 
 
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