Chapter 42!

And here we are, at the final chapter. Again, thank you all. I love you and adore you!

Disclaimer: No matter how much I have given my heart and soul, and no matter how much pain I've been through because of this frickin game, it's still not mine. DANG IT!

-o-

Chapter 42 – You Want the Real to be Real

Hermione woke up the next morning, and just lay there for a while, listening to Solas' soft breathing while going through the events of the party.

Josephine had been a delight for the rest of the evening - not that she wasn't usually - but the thrill-seeking, beaming Ambassador was a sight for sore eyes.

Sera had handed Solas an over-sized olive branch, quite frankly. Not to mention the fact that she knew parts of the Fen'Harel story by heart. Rather impressive, that.

Dorian had stopped by rather frequently, just to hug Hermione - he had even hugged Solas at one point, something that had left The Dread Wolf unsettled, and Hermione amused – Iron Bull had plucked Hermione from her chair three times, placing her on his horn, and paraded her around for a bit. The third time he had plucked Josie from her chair as well, and Hermione had laughed until she cried as the huge Qunari marched around the Main Hall with one lady on each horn.

Other than that, Hermione had mingled – it felt like she had talked to everyone – and the party had been an overall delightful event.

And she had kissed Solas in the middle of the Main Hall, resulting in a whole lot of murmuring, but then she had stepped back to look at Solas, and the murmurs had quieted down. It had taken Hermione a moment to understand why, but when she heard sighs from three different places in the room, she had suddenly realised what was happening.

As Dorian had said earlier that evening; 'Maker's breath, the two of you could make anyone believe that true love is, in fact, a reality.'

The kiss had been impulsive, and Hermione had feared the wrath of the Ambassador – the public displays could have begun…well, less public, after all – so she was rather surprised when Josie had just met her with enthusiasm. "You captured the whole room! It was fascinating!"

Hermione just hoped Josephine still found the display fascinating today – she had been dancing on a cloud of euphoria the whole party, after all – and wouldn't give Hermione one of those 'slightly concerned' looks she often had.

The party had been a delight, though.

Leliana had laughed. Often. Cassandra had shared a drink with Varric. Solas had chatted with Sera – at a later point – and returned with surprise in his eyes. There was hope, it seemed.

Vivienne had intimidated at least half the nobles there, and Hermione had a moment where she almost dropped her glass of wine in surprise when she saw Vivienne soundlessly mouth the words 'step aside, bitches'.

The sight had enabled a laughing fit, and she'd spent quite some time trying to explain to Solas why she was laughing. He had finally got the point, and as on cue, Vivienne had done it again, just as Solas glanced at her. The Dread Wolf had laughed heartily as well.

Cole had been rather uncomfortable with the whole thing, but stopped by the party to sit with Hermione and Solas from time to time.

Listening was hard, apparently, and it confused Cole. She had tried to explain the effect alcohol had on the brain, but it hadn't really done much to help. Explaining it didn't change the fact that a drunk mind was a muddled, chaotic mind, making it hard for Cole to listen.

Not to mention that a drunk mind also tends to be a dirty mind.

She remembered one of the rather 'interesting' situations with Cole from yesterday.

"Hermione? Why is that man thinking about you in that way?"

Hermione turned to where Cole was looking, and found a man glancing at her. She couldn't help herself, and a moment later, she was in the man's mind – bad she knew – but she was just too curious.

"Oh, sweet Merlin," she said as she saw the mental images in the man's mind. Images of herself in a rather 'frisky' maid outfit, feeding him grapes, dropping items on the floor just to pick them up – so she could show him her mostly bare behind, of course – and giggling whenever the man said anything. When an image of herself massaging the man popped up, Hermione withdrew from his mind.

"Why?"

Hermione blushed. How the hell did she explain this? Solas should be the one to explain this. "Um, Solas, that man has his head full of images of me in a naughty maid outfit, feeding him grapes, bending over to pick things up from the floor, and giving him a massage. Oh, and a whole lot of giggling."

Solas did not look pleased. "Who?"

Hermione shook her head. "I am betting at least fifteen women has much worse images of you in their mind – probably right now – so a giggly maid isn't exactly the worst."

"Why does he want you to be a giggly maid?"

Hermione gave Solas a sheepish smile. "Perhaps you would care to explain, Solas?"

Solas rolled his eyes. "Because, Cole, humans have strange desires at times. And that man…desires Hermione. Especially as a giggly maid, apparently."

"Why?"

Solas seemed at a loss for words, and Hermione sighed. "Humans, elves, animals, dwarves, every creature on earth reproduce in a way or another, Cole. These are basic instincts, quite frankly. Humans have these instincts as well, but being more developed, and able to think, these instincts are only the foundation. A foundation where one can build fantasies – just like dreams, in a way, except you aren't sleeping – and that man there apparently dreams about me as a giggly maid."

"He wants to reproduce with you?"

Hermione shuddered. "Well, not really. The instinct to reproduce makes humans want…well…"

"Cold bathroom tiles against my back – soft, hard, cold, warm, sweet Merlin, sweet Merlin, I am – Cole, get the hell out of my head. I know you don't mean anything wrong, but that's priiiivate."

Solas burst out laughing, and Hermione couldn't help but laugh as well. "Well, Cole," she said, trying not to blush, "that instinct I was talking about – well – that would be the result. The instinct leads to desire – like I desire Solas."

"The desire is soft, sweet, luck, love. You want the soft, sweet, luck, love."

Hermione sighed. "Exactly. And that's how children are made."

"I still don't understand," Cole said, and Hermione prayed for it all to be over soon, "why that man wants you as a giggly maid."

Hermione took a deep breath. "Well, the foundation is the instinct, and then he adds fantasy to the desire, resulting in me as a maid."

"But you're not a maid."

"No, but he wants to pretend I am."

"Why?"

Hermione had no idea what to say. "Remember those children we watched from the roof? They were playing. They pretended to be something else, someone else."

"It made them happy."

"Yes."

"So that man will be happy because he pretends you are a maid?"

"Yes. It's instinct combined with wanting to play," she said before pausing for a moment. "Cole, you have listened to countless minds; have you listened to someone think about wanting to be someone else?"

"Yes."

"And why do they want to be someone else?"

"Because they are unhappy. They want to be someone who is not unhappy."

"Exactly."

"When they pretend to be someone else, they forget they are unhappy."

"Exactly."

"Is that man unhappy?"

"Not necessarily unhappy. But discontent, perhaps. He looks like he is rather bored at the moment, and picturing me as a giggly maid makes him forget that he is bored. Pretending makes one forget about the negative feelings for a while."

"I understand."

"Thank Merlin."

Solas burst out laughing, but stilled when Cole spoke again.

"You don't want to be someone else," he said, glancing at both Solas and Hermione. "You want the real to be real. You don't want to pretend. Does that mean you are happy?"

Hermione gave Cole a soft smile. "Yes, Cole. That means we are happy."

"Good," Cole said, and then he vanished.

It was rather amusing, really, the fact that she had explained the birds and the bees to a Spirit of Compassion.

Smiling in amusement, Hermione continued her chain of thoughts, remembering more events from yesterday.

Blackwall had apparently been wearing his smooth-as-fuck-armour, because she had observed him more than once with a giggling noble lady looking at him with stars in her eyes. He does have his moments, she thought. Not quite Dread-Wolf-smooth, however.

Her next thought was Cullen. Cullen was not at all smooth. He was sweet and gentle, but his smooth-switch was for the most part off. He reminded her of Alistair – with the awkward, shy approach – completely unaware of how much of a swoon-worthy man he was.

He had at least talked with some ladies yesterday, but Hermione suspected he was utterly oblivious of the level of swoon going on around him.

It's rather cute, how the manliest of men – Commander of the Inquisition – manages to stay so completely in the dark when it comes to women, she thought, shook her head, and turned around to curl up to Solas.

Her Solas. Who would be staying. And so would Hermione. They had a world still in chaos, but at least for now they could rest easy, take a breather, even if just for a moment.

"You want the real to be real. You don't want to pretend. Does that mean you are happy?"

"Yes, Cole. That means we are happy."

Hermione was happy. And she was…home.

With a smile still on her face, Hermione drifted off to sleep.