What Secrets Await

Chapter 26: The Secrets in the Ring

Today was the day.

Excitement. Happiness. Relief. Where were those feelings? Not here. She felt none of those things.

The best thing in that moment was the comforting weight of the warm bed and blankets. But sounds of awareness from outside had roused her to the point that there was no turning back. It was time to get up, starting now, and it wouldn't be a peaceful day. As she rose from bed and began dressing, her usual routine of thoughts and emotions cycled through her, mainly about the odd circumstances and state of her life.

Sometimes she was mad at herself for having broken the ring, albeit she'd had no idea what she was reaching for in the little hiding place. Other times she was mad at the ring for having snapped so easily. Most of all she hated herself for not having been there to save her mother.

There was however some comfort in that progress was being made, and this provided some sense of determination and steadfastness. Resolute, Maeva tightened the knot at her waist, held her head up high, and strode through the door into daylight.

The Great Hall housed the usual bustle of Skyhold mornings. Varric was at his normal station, involved in discussion with a pair of stiff-backed men wearing the Kirkwall sigil upon their robes. She caught his gaze with a question on her face. Varric responded by shaking his head. He raised a hand to pause the other man's diatribe and gestured for Maeva to come over, then he advised her quietly that he'd fetch her when the ring was finally repaired.

She stood confused for a few minutes hoping for more explanation, but Varric was back to his conversation with the Kirkwall representatives so she moved away. Musing on the romantic dream of last night, she opted to check on Solas.

Through the hall to the Rotunda, two figures held discourse.

"You'd be surprised to know what credit my tongue does me," said Solas in evident retort. With an offended sniffle, Reverend Mother Giselle left the room like an insulted hen.

Maeva stifled a laugh and flattened herself against the darkest wall of the corridor, hoping Mother Giselle wouldn't notice. The woman paid her no mind and was soon gone.

He stood with his back to the door, arms crossed and facing his latest painting endeavor. He'd sketched the framework for a new mural of the tale of the Inquisition. This one depicted the battle at Adamant Fortress, where the Grey Wardens and Inquisition fought against the sinister and shadowy shape of Corypheus.

Solas turned at the sound of her steps and she caught the faintest sigh. He knew what she was there for, since she'd serendipitously bumped into him yesterday with a burst of questions about elven language and foot wraps. The wrappings had come apart days ago and she did not know how to put fresh ones on. By her pouting gesture at her dirty, bare feet, Solas could not have refused.

Without a word he gestured that she follow. They exited toward the Great Hall and traversed in direction of Josephine's office. Instead of continuing straight he turned left sharply and started down the stairs to the dining hall.

Where is he taking me?

He ignored the dining hall in favor of a hallway she'd not noticed before. Finally he pushed open a heavy wooden door that creaked and shook with dust and he gave her a nod to signal they'd arrived.

They entered an octagonal room walled by shelves of books upon books, a far greater amount than in the bookcases of the Rotunda library. Patches of cobwebs and layers of dust covered it all, climbing up to the distant ceiling.

At the center of the room sat a thick desk, also aged with webs and dust, upon which a massive reading stand held an enormous tome.

"What is this place?"