Open Post: Papae Solas

[goethbeforethefall]

It would come as a surprise to many that Solas was a father at all.

For thousands of years, he had pinned his heart to hopeless places, and been denied. For thousands more he had lain in wait, or recovery, and anyone else might have woken foolish and willing and full of more ordinary mistakes. But Solas? He had had so many chances, so many years and willing partners, so many reasons... And for all of them, he had created much, but never a child.

Beleth Lavellan, Inquisitor, had changed everything. Her power too, extended as far as this: now there are three.


Those who seek him out while he is in the city will find Solas often decamped at the residence of Barcus Wroot, and they are very likely indeed to find him curled up with a baby on his chest. Children require rest, and Solas, often lauded as a god, has great dominion over dreams— he guard's his children's jealously.

Don't wake the baby. You monster.



Or maybe you'll spot him at market, wandering between the stalls with a tiny, red-headed cloud of curls clinging to one hand, pointing out all the sights worthy to see. Even above the noise of the crowd, you can hear the excited squeals when she encounters an enchanted trinket.

"Papae! Can we buy this? Please?"

Who could resist that face? Not Solas. Not today. And is that... a pickpocket, sneaking ever closer, or perhaps something more dangerous? Better watch out, though who you might be saving by intervening is an open question. It's dangerous to go hunting for wolves...

Comments

[goethbeforethefall]

Solas offers Barcus the flat, sarcastic expression that that deserves. Yes, thank you, that is not what he meant either— though in retrospect, that is what it sounded like, is it not?

"It is possible for them to give you biological children," He counters, by way of vengeance, "Or the reverse, though it might require a significant leave of absence. In the Fade, there are very few limitations upon physical form, and what one longs for is prone to becoming reality without warning."

For, you see, when two elves love each other very, very much... Well. It doesn't really mater what they looked like, back home. Dreams are funny like that, sometimes, as is magic.

"You need only ask."

[lost_and_foundry]

To say that Barcus is surprised by this information would be an understatement. He is rendered speechless to a degree that is actually unusual for him. He also turns more shades of pink and violet than Solas has ever seen him turn before.

There's a long pause while he takes a cautious sip of his own lemonade, gazing into the middle distance, then: "Fine, then. I didn't think I had any questions about the process but I am properly chastised for my arrogance."

Whether he will wish to act on this revelation or whether it's just an interesting flight of fantasy, he doesn't know! But it does open an avenue for curiosity that feels a little less impertinent than it otherwise might: "Are they...from all three of you then? Is that possible?"

[goethbeforethefall]

Solas laughs, real and low in his chest— trying to do so quietly, and then to suppress it as the chuckles disturb the baby's sleep. He fusses and curls up, his little face wrinkling in dramatic displeasure, but eventually resettles with significant application of back-rubs and gentle reassurances.

"No. Beleth bore all three, though we intended only two, originally," There is still laughter in Solas' voice; twins are a blessing, and proof of Beleth's line. He cannot help but delight in them, "It was her wish. They are mine by blood as well, which was Felassan's. Myself, I gave no opinion— they are ours, and they are loved. That is all they ever need to be for my sake."

He pauses, his glance significant over Barcus' still-flushed expression, and smirks.

"...But there were options. You have friends in high places and low, Barcus Wroot, and should be made aware of the breadth of choice that stands before you."

[lost_and_foundry]

It's actually a risky temptation to dangle in front of him. Barcus' calling is invention but his vice is connection, in part because he denied himself for so long in pursuit of his work. The idea that he might have a child of his body and Bel's, or maybe even a little bit of all of his lovers who he's been so afraid of losing for good after leaving Caldera--well, his first thought is what wouldn't he give for that? A little physical risk, a little time to carry them and then forever after to raise and love them? That's not a sacrifice, that's a gift.

But it's not something that he would undertake seriously without a number of long and thoughtful conversations. "I-I think what I meant to ask was whether they could be, by blood, a little of each of yours." Because if physical form is no obstruction, why should anything else be?

"But...you're right, o-of course. The point is that they are here and you all love them." It takes him a moment to recover his breath, even after this, and the flush lingers yet.

"How is Felassan? I hope he'll stop by as well, some time." Speaking of people who are entirely normal about their life partners.

[goethbeforethefall]

"An interesting question," He says, and for a moment or two entertains himself in idle thought, tenderly flattening the wispy hairs at the back of the baby's head, "In theory, there is no reason why not; the Fade is the realm of the mind, of memory, intention, and dreams. But unformed bodies are particularly malleable, and the spirits within do not know what they are; the more complex the mixture, the more opportunity for unintended consequence."

Of course, within the Fade itself, there is no reason to believe such unusual persons would by necessity find their physical forms incompatible with life... but there was also no guarantees. Certainly, living in a realm of almost pure magic could compensate for any number of difficulties, but should such a child ever leave the Fade...

Well. Solas shakes his head on a grimace.

"It is not a field well-studied. As far as we know, there have been no children physically conceived, borne, and birthed within the Fade, excepting for our own. And we three are all elves, and relatively similar— the variables were as minimized as they could be. I would not lead you blindly into tragedy, my friend; there is always a risk of failure to accompany the possibility of success, if you have the courage to face it."

[lost_and_foundry]

Barcus is quiet for a while, thinking this over. He's gotten a little better at self-analysis through his time in Caldera, and after consideration, he nods. "Anything worth doing is worth failing at," he says. "Fear of failure won't stop me, but another life is well worth mulling over."

"I haven't even broached the topic with Bel. And as much as I love all of them, he is the one who stays with me, maybe for good, so I won't do anything to push him. I think...the idea is so compelling because I want to hold onto them without holding them back. If I could keep them with me and still let them go to be everything they want to be..."

He shakes his head. "But that is absolutely not a good reason to have a child. I'll keep the possibility in mind, of course, but for the somewhat distant future. In the end, adoption might be best." But even at that rate, it's not going to happen soon.

[goethbeforethefall]

"I am yet unpracticed with childrearing," Solas admits, with a smile towards the baby, evidence by itself of his still-young experience, "And I was never a child, myself. But I do not believe anyone could appreciate being thought of as merely a part of their parent, however beloved."

He falls into a tender, contemplative silence, for a moment, thinking the idea through. Sunlight is falling through the windows in a lazy dapple, dust-motes intermingling with the air, like a slow, golden dance. The baby sighs, and without knowing why, Solas mirrors the gesture, and is content.

"You have a great heart. Of all the many dangers, I do not think a lack of love, or consideration, is one of them. It is my opinion that any child would be safe with you, regardless of their parentage."

[lost_and_foundry]

"Exactly," he says, giving a slight, rueful nod. "I know better. I have a few things to work on first. In here," he touches his own temple with a single fingertip.

"Besides, maybe I should enjoy what I already have for a bit first." Because the others may come and go and return, but it seems as though Bel will be staying for the foreseeable future.

He quiets as Solas does, watching him interact with the drowsy infant, and finds his own twinges of longing fade into something softer and more pleasant in the peaceful silence. He can just be happy for his friends, and revel in that.

Of course, he flushes again at the compliment, and smiles. "You have a way of making words feel like treasures, you know that? Thank you. I cared for my younger siblings often enough, growing up."

[goethbeforethefall]

His blink at the compliment is a moment of surprise, and then he laughs, very quietly. Barcus Wroot, have you not enough of a harem? Behave yourself.

"I thank you," says he, "I have a well-earned reputation for ferocity, but it is my preference, always, to be known for Wisdom. I am grateful that recent years have given me few reasons to bare the Wolf's fangs."

And all of them, as ever, worthy targets. He hopes, perhaps futilely, that Baldur's Gate and it's many demons, gods, and myriad peoples, will give him no cause to wield his considerable power against them... But.

But, he is prepared to tear down the firmament itself, should any of them think to threaten his family. And so it is not an impossibility.

"Enough of my story, for now. What have you done with your years, Barcus Wroot?"

[lost_and_foundry]

What, can't a man flirt idly with his friends? He just has a lot of affection to give, so sue him. Anyway, he does mean it. A Solas compliment is a special thing.

"Well, you make me feel particularly appreciated when you tell me kind things, and I have yet to object to your lectures. Your children, as they grow, will probably object to being told things by their papa, though. I hope you're braced for the tiny eye-rolls and longsuffering sighs."

Doesn't matter if you're right. The kids have to be annoyed, they're contractually obligated.

"It hasn't been years for me. A few months. Nearly eight months, I think? Bel found me first, and I'm immensely grateful for that. I've had plenty of work here, but I can't begin to articulate how awful the thought was that I might never see any of you again, even with gates and doors between universes. Having him with me makes me feel...stable again."

"As far as my work, a lot of it has been in reconstructing the infrastructure of the upper and lower cities. The Netherbrain and the mindflayers did a number on bridges and roads. That work, the Ironhands do largely pro bono, but then the patriars throw gold at us to repair their fine houses, so we more than break even."

"You will find, I think, the economic inequality here downright galling. Gods know I do, but it's tricky to address with so many forces pulling the city one way and another. I genuinely believe that leaning into labor guilds is the tide that will eventually float more boats than not, though. Cut down the noble houses, raise up the meek. But I'm not a revolutionary, only an artisan." So he says, but the fact that he has an opinion here and at least part of a plan says something he doesn't want to hear about himself.

"The other thing we're working on is dismantling the remnants of the Steel Watch, but it has to be done in secret, with care. The components can be delicate, and volatile. You can't just dump infernal iron into a rubbish heap and bury it. We might be at it for another year yet."