It had grown dark without Lavellan even realising. One moment she was settling into the soothing hot bath, next she was in a pool of tepid water, gazing at a darkening wall. So much had happened in the past several days, her mind wasn't truly able to process it. It felt like things were reaching a close with Corypheus. They had pushed him as far as they could. The Arbor Wilds had broken his army. His best general was now on Cullen's leash. There was nothing left to do but kill him, assuming it was that easy.

With all that considered, Lavellan should feel ecstatic. Instead, she was just pensive. They had learned so much in that ancient temple, and there was more that Solas wasn't saying, she was certain. Had he known the truth about the ancient elves all along? Had he known that the culture of the Dalish was just a sham? She must have looked so stupid. Unwillingly, her mind strayed to times when she had mentioned her people, the Creators, anything that could now plausibly be a lie.

"Are you going to walk around all year with that sobby little face on?" came Sera's brash voice, as the blonde elf stomped up the stairs. "I'll put earwigs in your pillow if you don't stop. What do you think of that? Creepy little pinchy butts coming out at night and crawling into your ears. They'll go straight for the ears, they're big enough."

Lavellan didn't react, she just swished the water in her tub. "That's a lie, my ears are a delight."

"To you, yeah. Ooh touch me there, noooo touch me there." Sera ran her hands over herself like some one woman sex show. It was vaguely reminiscent of a desire demon, but with more giggle-snorting and fewer nipple tassels.

"Why are you here, Sera? I'm trying to take a bath."

"Well, you're doing a shite job. Sat there staring at the wall like a right drooler. Maybe you just need a hand? I've got two right here, can give you a little rub down. What, like I've never seen you wet before. Wet, right?" She guffawed.

Sera made an exasperated noise at the continued lack of reaction. "Look, right. I just want to know how hard I need to kick Solas in the balls."

Lavellan blinked in confusion. "Solas? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Ever since we came back from that stupid demon-worshipping temple, with its stupid not-dead-ancient-elfy-elves-from-years-ago, you've been making that face." Sera's own face set in a petulant frown. "It looks like someone kicked a puppy. Since it's my puppy, I don't like it. And, since it's Solas you've been chatting up about it, I really don't like it. He's a right bullshit merchant, that one."

Lavellan's lips quirked into a smile, stomach performing delighted backflips, despite her better sense. "I'm your 'puppy', am I?"

"Oh ha ha, caught me."

"You'd be surprised, actually. Solas simply confirmed everything Abelas said."

"That the weird guy from the temple?"

"Ah… yes?" How could she not remember the name? The whole expedition had been a world-shaking event, full of revelations, and Abelas was the icing on the cake.

Sera shrugged. "Wasn't looking at his name, just arrows. I have lots, but they had more. Since you and Solas were too busy chatting, that left me and Cass to do the watching. Your lot have a stick up your arse about honourable elfy elves looking out for each other, but they would've stabbed our backs in a heartbeat. All for some demon whose arse they kissed hundreds of years ago. Shite for brains, that lot."

Lavellan's eyebrows hiked upwards. She hadn't realised that Sera had even considered the philosophical implications of the temple. "You think it was all demons?"

"Yeah. What else could it be? It can't be real gods because Andraste." She sounded out the name slowly, as though it was obvious thing in the world that the Creators couldn't be gods if Andraste was the Maker's bride. Lavellan had never really thought about it like that. She didn't believe in the Maker herself, but that wasn't due to some process of elimination. She just thought the Maker sounded like a tit. At least the Dalish gods hadn't abandoned their people by choice, or so her people thought. It felt strange, to have your beliefs pulled away.

"The Maker and elf gods, those things... don't add up. So call me crazy, but I want to believe in the god not made up by people who failed."

"It does make me wonder," Lavellan mused. "Who was Mythal, really? She could've been a demon, or spirit. Maybe just a powerful mage. Certainly not a god." She grimaced at the memory of Solas' words. "Not any I'd want to follow."

Now it was Sera's turn to make the confused face. "You're… agreeing with me? About all that elfy shite? Colour me surprised." She grinned. "Here's me thinking I've signed up for an hour of 'Sera don't abandon your culture, our people have suuuuffered!'" She snorted. "Yeah right, and it was all elves that did it to themselves."

"Solas told me some of the things he learned in the Fade." Lavellan's throat felt tight just talking about it. She'd been sat in this tub so long, the water was cold, and the goosebumps were starting to rise on her skin. "You know, the ancient elves weren't so different from the Tevinter magisters? It's just the same abuses with different people, repeated through history. Everything I've ever been taught was just a story." She swirled the bath water lightly with her fingers, heating it with her magic. Some Keeper of the lost lore she would be. "We always knew that what we believed were just pieces, but we thought they were pieces of history and culture, not some fantasy so that we could justify feeling sorry for ourselves."

She set her jaw in annoyance.

Sera hopped onto the bath, one foot on either side. She crouched there, straddling it. Just a slight imbalance and she would be arse-first into the soapy water. Her face was curious, almost like she wanted to prod Lavellan's feelings, see what kind of reaction it would produce. On occasions like this, she almost seemed more like a barely tamed animal than a woman. Lavellan still didn't quite understand why it appealed to her so.

"I won't say 'told you so'."

"I think you already have." Irritated, Lavellan flicked the water at her face. Sera stuck out her tongue.

"It just makes me sad." Lavellan sighed, leaning back in the tub and eyeing Sera above her, perched like a bird of prey. Or perhaps a beggar protecting her last coin. "The Dalish are so proud and I was proud to be one of them. I was going to be the Keeper of our clan, preserving the memories and keeping us on the true path."

Sera eyed her curiously, and Lavellan sighed.

"Except I'm not anymore. I live like a human, dress like one, live in their homes of stone. And I'm not even sorry." She gave a rueful smile. "I love the people here! I love playing Wicked Grace with all of you, and picking up new things in Val Royeaux. I love having a soft bed and damn it, I really like shoes!"

"And getting shit-faced in the tavern with me?" Sera grinned.

"Especially that." She cupped Sera's jaw for a moment. "I've just realised that there are so many Dalish out there who will follow these lies from the day they're born until the day they die, and it's sad. It's a waste. They're just as much slaves to the Creators now as they were in the past."

Sera shrugged. "Just tell them what you know."

"They'd never believe me. Ismaethoriel might, possibly even the rest of the clan. They're living in Wycome now, helping the people there. They have a good purpose, so the loss of their culture might not feel so great. For the rest, it would be easier to believe that the Dalish 'Herald' has turned flat ear, rather than realise everything they revere is a lie."

She scoffed. "Bloody elfy elves. You know what? Screw them. Tell your ones in Wycome if you want, doesn't matter. Living with normal people might wise them up anyway. But don't be sad for the elves. They don't deserve your sobby face."

Sera gave her a thoughtful look, and placed one finger on each of Lavellan's cheeks, trying to tug her mouth up into a smile. "I was worried for ages, y'know. I thought that there'd be one day when all the elfy stuff came out, and you'd realise you didn't want me anymore."

Lavellan started to frown, but Sera's firm fingers kept that stupid smiling expression in place.

The Red Jenny looked away, her own face twisting as she tried to control her frustration. "It's always been the same with elves. Never enough. Don't complain enough, don't hate humans enough. Don't throw my shoes on the trash heap and prance around some tree like a right cock. They never understand that people are just people. They want to hold on to stupid lies they tell themselves, because they're too scared to let go and just bloody try living."

The grip of her fingers softened, and Lavellan took the opportunity to gather Sera's hands into her own. The city elf wasn't often affectionate. Not in any normal sense, anyway. Her idea of affection was pinning a smile onto her lover's face. Pinching her nose. Or other things. This time, Sera didn't move her hands, just awkwardly looked at them, nestled in Lavellan's.

"If never wanted you to be 'more elfy'. I love you for who you are, and nothing I could've learnt in the temple, or from Solas would ever change that. You don't have anything to worry about. There's nothing left for me with the Dalish. Honestly, I don't think I could've gone back to that life anyway, not after being part of the Inquisition. We can do so much more than the clan ever could."

"Careful you, don't want to start sounding like big people."

"They get arrows in the face," Lavellan said sagely, breaking into a grin. "Perhaps your sobby face also needs cheering up?"

She grabbed the front of Sera's dress and pulled, overbalancing the blonde elf. Sera toppled into the bath with a crash of water and shrieking. The splash-back hit Lavellan straight in the face, so she ended up coughing as much as laughing. Sera flailed around in the bath, trying to right herself.

"You shite bastard! My knickers are all wet now!"

Lavellan cackled mercilessly. "What was that you were saying earlier about being wet?"

Sera gave her a wolfish grin, yanking off her own sopping clothes and tossing them aside.

...