( 002 )

[dirth]

Who: Solas and you!
Broadcast: Text; universal
Action: On the Pathstone
When: Early morning of the 20th

I am looking for drawing tools. Charcoal, parchment, paints, anything of the like. I have credits I am willing to trade, but I find myself running low on my personal supplies.

[ Having left, his limited supplies of paints had been left to the Pathstone and Cole. Now he needs something to do with his hands and he feels almost... Twitchy with too much time on his hand. ]

Otherwise, I may offer artwork itself in trade. Any visitors to the Pathstone will have seen examples. Thank you.

Comments

[dirth]

I know. [ Solas frowns, then, turning his gaze away and forcing himself to be calm. It is, after all, his fault - his mistake that he will pay for, time and time again, more pain heaped upon those that he had come to care for. ] She will live, and that is what is important.

[killedwithlove]

It was an accident.

[He tries to reach for Solas, to take his hand.]

Not everything is your fault. I know you're very good at making chains and links to make everything about you, but sometimes... it isn't. And that's okay.

[dirth]

[ Solas shakes his head, leaning away from Cole's touch - not because he doesn't want it, but because he doesn't deserve it. ]

It was my plan, Cole, and I made a mistake. Her suffering is a result of my choice.

[ He's not entirely talking about Cadash anymore, and he thinks they both realise it. ]

Perhaps we shall allow me a moment or two of selfish wallowing before we return to the artwork, hm?

[killedwithlove]

You should lay blame where it belongs. With Corypheus and others who flocked to him.

[ The problem is, Solas pulls away and Cole tends to think he's done something wrong, because Solas won't let him in. He pulls his hand back to his chest, nursing it like the sting is there.]

And with those who hurt her. You didn't turn on her.

... okay. But you'd tell me wallowing doesn't help.

[dirth]

[ Solas sighs, shaking his head and turning back to look at Cole. ]

I will be alright, with time. Being trapped here, Cole... It does not do well for the mind.

[killedwithlove]

Yes, you will be. Probably.

Time doesn't deal. It's what you do with that time that heals you. [ Not his words, from someone else, clearly. ]

[dirth]

[ Solas raises an eyebrow, amused, before he nods, once. ]

You've been learning, haven't you, Cole?

[killedwithlove]

[ Cole nods. ]

I've tried to. Spirits don't learn, but people have to.

[dirth]

You are doing a remarkable job. [ And, here, he smiles. ] I am very proud of you.

[killedwithlove]

[ Cole ducks his head slightly and then looks up, a small smile on his face. ]

Thank you. I knew you were proud, pride, but it means more if you say it. I understand it better.

[dirth]

[ Solas softens, then, his smile widening. ]

Then I will make efforts to say it more often, shall I?

[killedwithlove]

Only if you feel it towards me. You're always seething with pride, but it's not like Madam de Fer's. You think only you can fix things, make them right. She just thinks she's better than most people.

[dirth]

Well, Madame de Fer and I are very different people. [ He softens, shaking his head. ] I will only ever tell you the truth, Cole.

[killedwithlove]

The whole truth and nothing but the truth?

[ They both knew that wasn't true. ]

[dirth]

When necessary.

[ Solas doesn't lie, of course. He omits things that are not important, not relevant at the time - Cole knew that, and so did he. ]