Work Text:
Lavellan approaches Solas while he is painting. They wrap their arms around his waist, and demand that he tell them a story. Solas sets down his paintbrush and thinks for a moment.
"You know the legends of June?" He asks.
Sitting down in a nearby chair, Lavellan stretches out their legs and folds their hands behind their head. “Is that a trick question? June is the god of the Craft. He taught the People how to make everything we need. He even made himself. You may not like the Dalish, but I’m not an idiot.”
"My apologies, I did not mean to imply such." Solas walks over to them and begins kneading their shoulders the way he knows they like.
"June did craft many items of great beauty, and taught skills to others, but did you know that June was a lot like you?"
Lavellan lowered their arms. “What? He was?”
"Well, it would be more accurate to say that they were," Solas said.
The Inquisitor turned to stare at their friend. “Excuse me?”
"The People use the masculine for June, but June was neither male nor female."
"So, I’m like a god?" Lavellan grins.
"Well, yes and no. June found an elegant way to express their uniqueness."
"What was it?"
Solas is quiet for a moment. He remembers walking into June’s workshop, after warnings in the Fade had sent him there. June was angry, smashing everything in their workshop in their frustration. They came at Solas, but instead of attacking him, they asked for help. Help them, Solas did. The two of them brainstormed for days, bouncing ideas back and forth, until June had a stroke of genius.
After all these years, Solas still remembers the moment June’s plan came to fruition. They stood before their anvil, tall and proud, thick and powerful, fully in control of their body. They were their own work of art, beautiful and untouchable.
Solas runs his fingers back through Lavellan’s hair. “You’ve heard of dwarven gollems, yes?”
"Of course."
"Primitive lumps compared to the genius of June’s creation." Solas’s words show his admiration.
"So June really did create themself. What did they look like?"
Solas pulls away, and goes to grab his sketchbook. “Here, I’ll show you…”