#Killing Felassan was something I really expected to come up

[octosan]

kcwriter-blog I agree. He wasn’t the same guy. Also while I believe Solas would kill a friend, I don’t think he would stab him the back. It’s just out of character. So a Felassan is just another way for the devs to say “no he really is a bad guy”

Well and the other thing is that Solas' reasons for killing Felassan don't even make sense to me now.

I know a lot of people go #JusticeForFelassan and point out that "Betrayal of Felassan" refers to Solas betraying Felassan and not the other way around and like, I do vibe with that? But by telling Solas that he was not going to take the eluvians and suggesting that they just give this world a chance, Felassan literally did betray him. He essentially told him, in couched language, that he was not going to prioritize the ancient elves over modern Thedosians anymore.

Obviously it is a good thing that Felassan did this and that's not something he needs to be criticized for (though I kind of wish we'd gotten confirmation that he feels this way about all elves and not just Briala's people, because whew the sheer contempt he had for the Dalish-) but in a version of the story where Solas believes he must destroy Thedas for the sake of his own people, it makes sense to me for him to have killed Felassan for this, because Felassan is literally a threat to his cause now. And furthermore, the vibe from that scene in the story was that Felassan knew very well that Solas would kill him for this. He chose to go there after considering hiding from him forever, the narrative says that he knew going in that nothing he said would be enough. So whether or not Solas literally stabbed him from behind is immaterial imo.

Killing him mid-sentence was to me also symptomatic to how Solas Cannot view modern Thedosians as people because of how much harder that would make what he feels he has to do. Not to keep pointing to that Solavellan evidence here but that's reflected in the Cole banter after the break-up. "You're real and so everyone could be, it changes everything but it can't." Solas will also admit to a friendly Inquisitor that having accepted that Thedosians are people will "not make what must come next any easier".

Briala CAN'T remind Felassan of him. Solas CAN'T find Briala's goals sympathetic. Because if he does, how is he supposed to be okay with destroying everything she's working for when he brings the Veil down? And yet he MUST bring the Veil down or he would be betraying his own people too.

Now that Veilguard has removed the ancient elves from the narrative entirely and retconned him into just blindly hoping that all modern elves benefit from the Veil coming down, he and Felassan want the exact same thing (for modern elves to have a chance.) So now his killing him has been reduced to (essentially) a petty disagreement on how to help modern elves, and Solas killing Felassan mid-sentence a symptom of him just... rashly killing people? Rather than him decisively doing what he feels he must for the sake of people who actually exist and need him.

[theharellan]

It’s been three years, and I fucking love Solas. Someone help me.

Are you ready for some unabashed Solas love? I sure am.

So three years today I was coming to the end of my first playthrough of Dragon Age: Inquisition. I’d already made a blog for my Inquisitor Cadash (before the game came out, to open up after I beat it), and that was all I was expecting to make.

Then, some bald elf grabbed her hand and helped her close her first Breach. I’d kept up with Inquisition news, and Solas seemed cool, interesting enough. I wasn’t really expecting or prepared for how much I’d come to love him. By Temple of Mythal I’d made a Solas blog, and when I finished on the 22nd I made the finishing touches, and here we are!

I wanted to spend some time talking about what I love about Solas, since there’s a lot of negativity about the character. Rping him I know that kind of negativity (not even criticism, which he very much deserves, just negativity that often completely ignores vast swathes of characterisation) can get very tiring to read and humour. Yes, I know he’s trash, let me tell you why I love him, both in spite of and because of those qualities.

Without further ado, welcome. Welcome to my disorganised rambling essay/list of why I have been writing this loser for three years now:

What first drew me to Solas was his experiences as a Dreamer. I majored in history as an undergrad, one of my favourite things as a historian was reading and reviewing primary sources. You find the truth in them, but only one person’s version of the truth. When Solas spoke of dreaming, he spoke to that knowledge: that history is never one story, and that at Ostagar Loghain could be  hero and a villain at the same time. Both were valid readings, and both were memories that deserved to be remembered. Having a character who spoke to the history nerd in me was very special, I won’t lie.

As the game continued, Solas totally revolutionized Dragon Age lore for me? Even before it started to become obvious that he was more than just an elf who liked napping. Before Solas and Cole the Fade wasn’t a particularly interesting part of the world for me, but how Solas explained the personhood of spirits really affirmed what Dragon Age 2 had started to explore with the nature of Justice/Vengeance and Merrill’s banter.

It was some really beautiful world-building, to slowly pull back the veil (ha) and reveal that our perception of spirits in early games was really misguided.

And once it became obvious he was something more than what he wanted us to think (I had guessed he was related to Fen’Harel- although I had assumed it was something along the lines of Felassan since I had finished TME just before DA:I) it got even better? In DA:O elf lore didn’t really grab me like the dwarves or qunari, or even the mages. DA2 improved with Merrill, and then in DA:I Solas took what Merrill had granted us and ran with it. The lore he introduced was what made me elf trash, honestly. Before I was just kind of like... elf recycling? I loved Merrill, but wasn’t all that interested in Dragon Age elf lore as a concept. Now I am 100% trash and I will rot in this elf garbage dump until the universe ends.

His and Sera’s perspective on the Dalish really jerked me out of the perception of Dalish elves being Perfectly Fallen Elves, which had never been true, but their flaws are much more muted in DA:O and it took several playthroughs before I could really begin to wrap my head around how their behaviour towards Merrill only made matters worse. By listening to Solas and also Sera’s perception of them, it made going back and replaying early games more exciting, as I could see the seeds of issues DA:I would eventually explore. It’s why I enjoy DA:I so much because, imo, it compliments the lore of DA:O and DA2 so well for the most part.

And the lore he eventually brings to Elvhenan? Fantastic. Like I said, I had read TME beforehand, so I was already aware Elvhenan had issues, but revelation that the Elvhen gods were never gods, that their empire was not the perfect thing we had been led to believe? As much as DA:I played up the high fantasy angle more than DA:O and DA2, that revelation was very much a dark fantasy trope, and it fit perfectly with the overall tone in the series whereas before Elvhenan had seemed a little out of place. Empires are shitty by nature, and it was good to see the elven empire was no exception.

All these revelations are, to some extent, introduced or expanded upon by Solas. So I connect a lot of my love for the lore to him, and as a result I’m fond of him for that reason. I’m going to move on, though, because I’m like 800 words in and I haven’t touched upon him as a person lmao.

This one article that I won’t really touch upon for too long, namely because I couldn’t read it all, compared Solas to a fedora-wearer, which is a characterisation that drives me batty. Because Solas is a SJW, for better or worse. He can very easily identify problems in society, and people, and has no problem talking about them, even when it’s inappropriate.

He cares, he cares deeply. He cares even when it’s against his best interests to care.

If you take him with you through the Hinterlands (and beyond) you’ll find he approves when you help people, even people he might disagree with. Should you deliver a flower to Senna’s grave, and invoke Falon’Din’s name when you inform her widower, he approves. He approves even if he knows the Elvhen gods are false, and knows Falon’Din would not spend a second thinking about this poor man’s dead wife.

He cares when you choose to sacrifice the Chargers, and reinforce to Iron Bull that his worth lies only in the Qun. And if you choose to save them, he cares to reassure Bull that he is not a beast, but a person, and an intelligent one.

And whatever your relationship with him is, by Trespasser he decides he cares enough to save you. Even if he thinks your Inquisitor is so terrible he comes close to comparing them to the evanuris (especially Inquisitors he’s unfriendly to who claim to be chosen) he still decides that the south deserves better than what the qunari will give him. Trespasser was not a smart move for Solas, all things considered. He could have pulled out of the south, or left the Inquisitor to die without explanation. But he explains, because he cares enough to know he owes them that much.

None of this excuses what he plans, but how much he cares in spite of what he feels he must do is compelling.

I think one of the most telling things is the stories Solas can recount for you. When you ask him for stories, he tells you tales of Ostagar, or mighty battles, but the little moments he recounts for you are some of my favourite examples of what Solas finds important in the world. Dwarves seeing daylight for the first time, a qunari baker rebelling in a subtle way only she will know. This guy walks the Fade, and could in theory see every moment in history that people might kill to see, but instead comes across a memory of a woman baking and thinks “this is important.”

Stuff like that is, to me, demonstrative about how much Solas is about the people. He has a lot of growing to do when it comes to his perception of... well, everyone, but despite all of this he still does see wonder in really tiny moments. These are things you don’t often see, especially in jaded immortals, and it’s one of my favourite things about getting to know him.

Speaking of Solas’s perception of the modern world, let’s talk about it. It’s flawed as all heck (especially  at the beginning of the game), but it makes total sense.

Waking up in a world where there’s essentially one less dimension, or perhaps half a dimension where there used to be a whole one? That’s not the sort of thing you just get over. Of the ancient elves we have met, all of them have expressed similar struggles. Abelas doesn’t recognise a Lavellan as Dalish, and Felassan only begins to see them as people towards the end of Masked Empire.

That Solas’s perception (that any of these characters) is able to evolve is impressive, imo.

I’m not saying he deserves to be praised for coming to recognise people as people, in case you’re wondering. What I love here is that Solas, that every ancient elf thus far, is allowed a very real reaction to an impossible situation. And what I love is, for as much as the fandom likes to paint him as stubborn, he is more capable of evolving than people give him credit for.

Of all the things to admit you were wrong about, admitting you were wrong about the entire population of Thedas is a pretty big thing to admit. It’s why I do have hope that Bioware will grant him at least a bittersweet happy ending. It’s clear, especially if you befriend him, he does not enjoy what he feels must be done.

And you may ask “then why do it?” to which I usually reply: the name of ‘traitor’ would suddenly be worthy of him, at least in his eyes, if he just turned his back on those he has worked for literal centuries to uplift. So many people try to convince Solas he’s wrong by... telling him what he’s doing is bad, which. It is, but he knows. Put that energy towards showing him how his rebels can live the life they were supposed to get after the evanuris had been toppled, and then, I think, people would start to make some headway in redeeming him.

Often when protagonists are redeemed it is with an appeal to the heart, and not the head. You appeal to their better nature. With Solas I believe redemption lies not in appealing to his better nature, because in a way he’s already using it. Instead, redemption for Solas will come from showing him that his heart is right, but it is his head that is the problem. Hopefully that makes sense? Show him that his people matter, and can be given their freedom, and then a happy ending may come after.

I could go on and on and on about everything I love about him, but I’m realising this is getting long, so maybe dedicating a mini-essay to every character trait was a mistake. I’m going to throw out a couple more, and try to wrap things up!

I love how angry he gets in banter. I’m someone who gets mad when I argue with people about social issues, especially when I otherwise had/have respect for that person, so hearing Solas get legitimately frustrated when arguing with Iron Bull is very relatable for me. I love that he’s allowed to be angry, and allowed to be right, even while being wrong about so much else.

I love his sense of humour, and his laugh. I love that as much as “Chuckles” is considered to be (even by the game) an ironic nickname, one of the first potential lines from him is him snort-chuckling about Varric being involved with the Chantry (at the first time we hear the nickname Chuckles, I believe).

I love that he loves spirits. I love that no matter what path you choose for Cole, he loves and supports Cole. I love that he understands spirit Cole is as much as a person as human Cole, and both are good and worthy of loving, even if Cole is going down a path he cannot fully relate to himself.

I love his lapses-- be it where he comes out looking something of a fool (setting his pants on fire) or just being a nerd in love on his romance path. He’s smooth, but he stumbles.

There’s so much more I could go into, honestly? His fashion sense, his relationships with each individual member of the Inquisition, the tenderness he is capable of, but I’m pretty sure this is getting too long to be worth reading. I may do a part two sometime (maybe next anniversary??) but for now, I hope everyone who somehow managed to read all of this has a better understanding of why I care so much for Solas, and why I’ve been writing him for four years.

I have no idea how many thousands of words I’ve written for Solas over the past 8,133 posts, but I do know this: I love how there’s still things I haven’t been able to explore in my prose, and I love that you guys will be here to explore them with me!

Thank you everyone who has stuck with my Solas for so long? Even after my mental health issues forced me to take a very long hiatus, I was surprised and touched by how many stuck with me. You’re all wonderful, and I hope you have a nice night!

If you could please refrain from any Solas negativity in comments or tags, I’d appreciate it!

[wootensmith]

Ruins

The cold had closed in, choked off the city with snow as blizzard after blizzard swept through the forest. It was wearing on now, they’d expected the thaw for some weeks, but winter clung on. Solas half willed it to linger, knowing he could not put off the spell for much longer. The spring would be the last with the Veil. If he were lucky, it would hold until summer, but the recent readings had been dire. He despaired of finding the Inquisitor. She was no longer activating the amplifiers and he had not been able to find her, not even to sense her in the Fade for more than a month. He tried to convince himself that she only slept at different hours or that she was distant and he couldn’t reach her, but his heart began to doubt. Another anniversary of the Breach had come and gone without the slightest signal from her. No dream, no message, no sighting at Skyhold. Nothing. It gnawed at him, the fear that she’d fallen somewhere, alone and unmourned. That she had been frightened or grieving when it happened. Dorian had told him once that they were all prepared for it, for her death, but he found himself blindsided by the idea of it, even after all this time. Why did I not take the amulet and steal her? Leave this world to its fate— He let the thought skitter away. It was an ugly one. He already knew why he hadn’t chosen that path. “You are distracted, Solas. Shall I return another time?” asked Abelas. He shook himself free of the ideas that haunted him. “No. I apologize. There is much left to do and I have been— unfocused. What were you saying about the training? Most of the recruits appear to have good form.” “Perhaps. But most of them aren’t prepared for the reality of gaining new abilities. The remaining Elvhen still recall how it felt to swim in an ocean of magic, but these elves— they’ve only learned to fear it. We cannot undo generations of false teaching in a few months. Their casting forms are adequate, but it is entirely different to experience it. There are too few mages among them. It will be chaos.”

Solas sighed. “What would you have me do? I cannot give them magic without lowering the Veil.” “Not here. But you could walk the Fade with them. Would that Felassan were still among us, he could have helped. Feynriel might be trained to assist you. Even if it is only in dreams, they would have some experience of the sensations before the true battle. The Evanuris will not wait while they acclimate.” “It is a sound plan,” agreed Solas, swallowing the barb about his friend. “I’m not certain they will take the knowledge with them into the waking world, too many seem to discount what occurs in dreams, but I will try.” “Good.” “Is there more news from Tevinter?” Abelas shook his head. “Their forces grow, but there has been no movement of the troops. Winter is a poor time for a siege if that is what they intend. And your old friend is making a great deal of trouble in the magisterium. With our help, of course. I believe they are too occupied to concern themselves with us yet.” “I hope it lasts. I have no desire to fight more wars than we already must. The Blight research—” A draft of chill air swept up the steps as the temple doors swung open and he stopped. Footsteps on the stairway and Sevren’s voice rose up them. “They should be just up here.” Solas turned from the table they were standing beside. Abelas was staring down the stairwell. His hand closed around Solas’s shoulder as if to steady him. Sevren emerged first, reaching back to help someone. Solas had an instant of dread that it was Vhemanen, that something had happened to her or to the people in Skyhold, but the thickly cloaked figure was not stooped like Vhemanen. When she looked up and he caught a glimpse of her eyes his heart stuttered painfully in his chest. “Solas,” said the Inquisitor. He was too shocked to respond. Abelas glanced at him and stepped in. “Andaren atish’an, Inquisitor,” he said. Her face was mostly covered with the cloak, but the edges of her eyes crinkled in a smile as she turned to him. “I am not an Inquisitor any longer, Abelas,” she said. He held out a hand to grasp hers. “Sentinel, then. You are most welcome lethallan. We have been concerned.” The skin around her eyes smoothed. The smile had dropped away. Solas remembered to breathe at last. “You may not feel that way when I tell you why I am here,” she said. He didn’t care why she had come. He didn’t care what awful news was about to drop from her lips. She was there. She was safe and whole. A distant part of him tried to exert cool reason onto his reaction, but in his deepest heart he knew whatever madness she was about to propose, he’d agree to. Her eyes turned back to him. He longed to see her face, forgot that he had yet to greet her, to acknowledge her at all. “I’ve found another way, but you will not like it. It is not perfect, and I would keep looking, but—” her voice cracked and those eyes grew overbright in the candlelight, “I am running out of time.” “Any advantage will be welcome,” said Abelas. The Inquisitor glanced at Sevren and he flushed and grew awkward. “Ir abelas,” he murmured, “I have duties to—” He scrambled back down the stairs. She waited until the cold rippled back up and away as the temple door opened and shut again. “I need you to wake them,” she said, watching Solas. “Wake them? Who?” asked Abelas. But Solas knew. And Abelas realized almost instantly. “You cannot mean— you don’t know what you’re asking.” He shot a glance at Solas. “I do. I know. I’ve tried other methods, but I— am not like them. No one is, not even you, Abelas,” she said. “I need an Evanuris to help us.” Abelas shook his head, his face drawing back into an angry snarl. “You don’t. They will not help us. Not one of them. It is not what they do. They take and they slaughter and enslave. We are— cattle to them. Less than cattle. Mythal, alone, would have aided us and she is gone. This is madness—” Solas held up a hand to interrupt. “Why do you need an Evanuris?” he asked her, startled to realize it was the first time he had spoken. He immediately regretted not saying something softer, something loving. She seemed not to notice, eager to sell this strange request to him. “Do you remember what Warden Clarel intended? The deal that she thought Corypheus was making with her? She wanted to wipe out the archdemons all at once—” “It was folly,” he answered, “as likely to lead to chaos and a flood of darkspawn as it was to ending the Blight.” “Yes!” she agreed, “But I have been thinking about it since Adamant. The Wardens know the key to ending a Blight is killing an archdemon because it is the mind that leads them. Without it, the darkspawn don’t attempt to surface, they linger in the Deep Roads in small bands instead. They may attack trespassers, but without the Calling, they have no collective purpose.” “But they would remain there, multiplying until the next archdemon arrives. A vast army just waiting for the order to attack,” said Abelas. “That is why the Wardens thought eliminating the archdemons would prevent any further Blights. But they didn’t understand what an archdemon is. Neither did I, not truly. Not until Wisdom’s library. But you told me yourself, Solas. The Forgotten Ones tested the Veil for weakness, became archdemons and escaped with the help of the darkspawn. The Wardens were wrong because they cannot really die with the blow of a sword, just as Mythal did not die.” Abelas grew pale with rage at the mention, but held his peace. “Just as Corypheus did not die until all the fragments of him were destroyed. Morrigan knew this. It is what saved Warden Brosca. It’s why Mythal wanted Kieran. He had a fragment of Urthemiel within him, just as Flemeth carried a fragment of Mythal. We can never destroy the Blight that way. But if we can persuade an Evanuris to inhabit a dragon, before the madness of the red lyrium takes them, if we can convince them to use the Calling, to draw the darkspawn somewhere deep, deep into the infected titan, we can destroy them with one battle.” “But there are thousands of them—” Solas started but Abelas turned to glare at him. “You can’t be considering this. Not truly.” He turned back to the Inquisitor. “You don’t understand. They will not help us. They are just as bad as the Forgotten Ones. Anything to gain more power, to hold their godhood secure. They will not care if it means swallowing the world in darkspawn. They will not care if their people die or turn or the land itself sickens. So long as they remain, so long as they defeat their rivals. You cannot do this. I know your myths. I’ve heard them repeatedly in the time we’ve been here.” He grasped her shoulders and Solas tensed, expecting to need to intervene, but Abelas only pleaded with her. “I wish they were what you think. I wish that they were as benevolent and generous as your stories. But they are not.” “There must be one who—” she cried. “No. Not one.” “Sylaise, Ghilan’nain, surely—” Abelas shook his head. “No, lethallan. It was Sylaise who kidnapped and tortured children in order to force their mothers into servitude to her. Ghilan’nain fed her slaves to wild beasts to prepare them for Andruil’s hunts or used magic spells to grow horns or talons on her victims, transforming them into abominations. We are nothing to them. They did not hesitate to kill one of their own. Why would our fate give them any pause? No. Mythal alone would have done this. If you offer this knowledge to the Evanuris, they will only use it against one another. A dozen darkspawn armies clashing over all the world and us in the middle.” He stopped, his face twisting to stare at Solas, that same disbelieving, pleading look for him as well. “We have to try,” she insisted. “What alternative is there? Perhaps they have softened after all this time.” Abelas groaned and rubbed his temple as if it pained him. “The alternative is giving them justice. I mean to avenge Mythal. To avenge us. Everything, every pain we’ve suffered, every death, the loss of the Fade and ourselves— it is all due to them. We cannot escape our fate, but I will not allow them to slip free of it either. They will not survive us. Not one of them.” “But if we could escape, if we could wipe out the Blight— would you doom us all to sate your anger?” Solas felt the sensation of her hand on his face in the dark. Of Mythal speaking quietly to Elgar’nan in the brittle cold of endless winter. He did not expect it to work on Abelas. He did not have the same reasons to yield that Solas did. But the Sentinel paused, backed up a step, as if she’d given him a blow. “Even if we did convince one of them, even if this insanity worked and all went as it ought to,” he asked, “how do you mean to destroy that many darkspawn? The Wardens are too few, even our own forces are too few to conquer so many especially if we are already battling the other Evanuris.” “Both the Wardens and the Legion of the Dead are ready to join me in the Deep Roads. And Dorian is working to turn the might of Tevinter toward aiding you here.” “Aid us?” asked Solas, “All indications are that they intend to invade.” She shook her head. “I have been careful— we have been careful. The magisterium does not know all, but they know that you are facing a grave danger to all of Thedas. I have only to send word to Dorian.” “It is still not enough,” said Abelas. “I know,” she admitted, “but there is still the anchor. I will follow the Calling to where the darkspawn gather. In a few months, perhaps less, the mark will become uncontrollable again. If we are fortunate, I will be in the center of the horde when the power is at its apex and it will destroy them. It still may not be enough. There will be a good deal of darkspawn left afterward, but they will be scattered for a time. Easier to manage. There will not be an ocean waiting to pour into Thedas.” “It will mean your death,” said Solas. “It will mean my death anyway, fanor. At least this way, it may do some good.” It was unhinged. Desperate. “It took three years for the anchor to become unstable, and even then, it was not powerful enough to wipe out the numbers that you would need to,” he reminded her gently. She raised her hand to her cloak, but hesitated. “It was only my arm last time. And things seem to have— accelerated.” He felt a crackling ball of dread settle into his chest as she unwound the cloak. Abelas gasped. “Mythal lanaste!” he cried. Solas stumbled back in shock, knocking over a pile of books with a crash that went unheeded. Half of her face glowed with emerald veins. Like a statue crumbled and then pieced painstakingly back together. They branched up her neck and over her chin, lined her lips, stretching in delicate webs over the skin of her cheeks. It ended just below her eye and one jagged line straggled over the boundary of her nose, already reaching for the far side of her face. How had it not reached her heart? How was she standing there? “But— it shouldn’t have been this fast,” protested Solas. “I thought— a year at least.” He took a step toward her and Abelas shook free of his bewilderment, realizing there was more happening than her plan. “I see,” he said flatly. The Inquisitor ignored him, watching Solas. “I have— much to think on, lethallan. Have you— is there some document I can— I’m afraid I’m twelve paces behind you.” She tore her gaze from Solas and turned to him. “Yes. In my pack. It is at the eluvian. Your lookouts would not let me pass for fear I had brought a weapon with me. They should have kept me and sent you the pack instead.” She smiled, but it was sad. “All my notes are there. If you wish, Dorian has a more expansive copy.” He gave her a shaky half-bow. “Thank you.” He seemed to recover himself, at least a little. “I cannot promise to agree to this,” he warned her, “but it is— unjust of me to dismiss it out of hand. Give me some time to consider.” “Of course,” she said. Abelas was gone long before Solas realized they were alone and he was still staring at the spidery lines of light in her skin. She’d begun to rewrap the cloak around herself, trying to cover it. “Don’t,” he said suddenly, his hip slamming the table in his haste to reach her. He tugged the cloak. “Don’t, please. I have longed to see your face for so long.” She laughed softly, but her hand remained on the cloak. “I am afraid it is a disappointment then. I was never a beauty, but Sera says I could compete with Corypheus’s face now.” “Sera is a blind fool,” he said, releasing the cloak to trace the glow on her lips. She waited patiently and when his hand drew away, she returned to rearranging the cloak. “I cannot return to the eluvian this way,” she said, noting his confusion. “I don’t want others to see.” “Return? You mean to go?” He pulled the cloak away again. “Stay.” “But the mark could—” He pressed his hand to her cheek and pulled the flare of the anchor down, back into his own flesh. “I won’t let it become unstable. Stay. I have had no word, no sign from you in months. I began to fear you were…” he let it fade out. “Turnabout is fair play, I suppose,” he admitted. She released the cloak to touch him. “I wouldn’t do that. I did not intend to worry you. I had to go far into the titan to get the answers we needed. There was a great deal of red lyrium. I had to use Iron Bull’s elixir. I have not been able to dream for some time. Nor send word. Ir abelas, emma lath.” “Stay then. Here, with me.” She drew back slowly. “You still wish me to? Even like this? Mangled and ugly and bearing news that may drive a wedge between us? You still care for me?” “Still? Oh, Vhenan, I have barely begun. I will love you long after we are both dust.” He let his fingers glide over her jaw, her ear, through her hair. She was so much softer than he remembered. So much warmer without the rigid metal gauntlet in his way. “And you are more beautiful to me than you have ever been. It is only fear that held my tongue. I thought I had given you more time.” “You did.” “Not enough— I— stay. I have kept my sanity by a thread these past years, but I fear it will be lost in earnest if I must part from you again. You have found another way, you have accomplished your goal, anything you need, I will procure. Here. If it is only my affection you doubt I can pro—” She kissed him, her hand pressed hard to the nape of his neck. His arms had just found her waist when it happened again. Her wounded arm rose to respond and she broke away in horror and grief as she realized it could not reach him. “I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to brush you with—” Don’t push me away, he willed her. “Is it painful?” he asked, pulling the cloak from her shoulder and then the simple shirt beneath to look. The glow of the mark was overwhelming. “No, not painful. Just— it bothers some. I didn’t want— I’m a ruin, Solas. You cannot truly want me here, not this way.” She would not listen to praise, not yet. He kissed her again, instead. “Is that what troubles you? We have weathered many storms and battles together. I am a ruin too, my love. Let us lean against one another once more. Stay.” He held her wounded arm to show her what his words could not. What he had failed to do in dreams. “Ar lath ma.” She managed a weak smile. “Again,” she said. “Today and tomorrow and every day after,” he answered. “I yield.” She met his kiss and didn’t flinch when he gently squeezed her arm.

[elfrootaddict]

Fic Writer Questions

Thank you so much for the tag @in-arlathan 💕 this is definitely the first time I’ve had to think about things like this - this is going to be fun!

I personally don’t know a lot of writing friends on Tumblr (because I’m very new to the world of fic writing - well, writing in general 🤪) but I’ll tag whoever (even though I think most are strictly artists?)

Anywho, those who can/ want to, feel free to answer these and be sure to tag me back - would love to read what you have to say :) @sopml @noire-pandora @tragic-lavellan @felassan @followingthewolf @an-egg-broke-my-heart @rubihowl @faelavellan @lethendralis-paints @himluv @serial-chillr @soulconsumingginge @thedreadblog

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I’ve cropped my answers for the sake of people’s feed 👇

1. Do you enjoy the occasional trope? Do you enjoy them all? Or do you hate tropy stuff with a passion?

Firstly, I hope the tropes I mention are actually tropes (but apologies in advance if I what I ramble on about isn’t officially a trope). But I guess I don’t mind the occasional trope but normally it would be nice to have a story without it - I like surprises and unexpected events. I guess as a teenager I loved your Boy-Meets-Girl tropes a lot, but now I honestly hate them. Predictability in a story, to an extent, is a mood killer for me and I find myself bored. I know it’s hard to expect writers to essentially “reinvent the wheel” when it comes to writing unpredictable and trope-free stories, so I completely understand how some tropes are almost hard to avoid but if a story is solely reliant on tropes then I’m not interested.

2. Which tropes are you favorites? Which ones do you avoid? Have you written any yourself or is there one you really want to write?

Favorite Tropes: I don’t know the “official” name of tropes but I will just describe them as best as I can in no particular order :)

Opposits Attract: From the top of my head I think of Hermione&Ron, Monica&Chandler, Ross&Rachel, Repunzel&Flynn and Bull&Dorian when it comes to this particular trope. I think so many REAL relationships are between two people who are so dissimilar in a lot of ways. That the weaknesses in the one character are the other character’s strength (e.g. one is disciplined and the other isn’t). One relationship I wish happened canonically is Zuko&Katara from Avatar. In saying that, when two characters who are so grossly different get together then that’s something I struggle to wrap my head around as it feels forced and unnatural. But if done right, you know that those two lovers are together because of how REAL their love is for one another despite their differences, and that they aren’t in for what they “get out of it” and how “easy it is” - they’re in it because they love each other so truly and accept all the good, bad and ugly in between.

Star-Crossed/ Lovers in Denial: I guess it goes without saving for me (being in Solavellan hell and all) but having two characters fall in love almost against their better judgement and how they deny their feelings for so long is something I really enjoy. And guess what? All my examples from the top of my head are all Dragon Age ones 😅; Loghain&Rowen, YourWarden&Alistair, Hawke&Fenris and Trevelyn&Cassandra are relationships that blossom without at least one of them looking for it and how it catches them off guard. And when they do finally admit their feelings its a really big, spontaneous and passionate moment. However, I hate it when they deny their feelings for too long - in this case I’m talking about Blackwall’s romance as an example. When I watched Blackwall’s romance, I got really frustrated with his constant “No, I can’t” that it really made me want to scream lol. Oh! Just thought of another one that isn’t a DA related; Elizabeth&DrDarcy :)

The Underestimated: I enjoy seeing a character underestimated and then proving everybody wrong by being the most powerful, strongest and most incredible one in the room while everybodies mouths are agape. But not by turning into the bad guy, but by simply showing the others that they shouldn’t be underestimated. I think of Toph, Aang and Solas in this regard. And even better, is when the characters don’t need to “show off” their power. I loved how with Toph she was the most powerful Earth Bender but was the smallest and youngest person in the room, and everybody she met underestimated her! And with Aang being you know... the most powerful person in their world and is merely a child. Then of course, we all know Solas’s story: creating the Veil, that Mind Blast in Trespasser, petrifying people to stone, killing dwarves in their sleep and having his Dread Wolf form living in the Fade... yeah. Total sucker for underestimated and not-your-typical powerful character.

Tropes I Avoid: Again, don’t know the “official” names and from the top of my head :)

The Dumb Blonde: Whenever I see a superficial, stupid blonde woman I get really mad. I actually take it personally as I was called a “dumb blonde” myself growing up for simply having blonde hair. I’m sure you’ve heard of “blondes have more fun, but brunettes remember it the next day” joke and omg... it Really. Grinds. My. Gears.

The Mirror in a Horror: I almost never watch horrors, but whenever I see anyone stare into a mirror, open the cabinet and then close it to find somebody suddenly standing behind them, it really makes me roll my eyes back into my head. Look, I still close my eyes because I can’t hand jump scares (even when I know they’re coming) but even still... lol

The Hero Survives: Perhaps an unrealistic expectation, but whenever a story has the blatant knight-in-shining-armor hero, you know from the beginning that they aren’t going to die. That’s why the Red Wedding made me question everything I knew lol. It was totally unexpected! But when you get to the end of a movie and the hero is fighting the bad guy; at first the hero is winning, then the bad guy gets the upper hand and they (the creators) try to fool you into thinking the hero will die (aka the Bad Guy Monolauge) but then suddenly the hero fights harder and wins... ugh... However, I’m not saying the hero must always die, but I like the idea of the hero dying and somehow surviving quite unexpectedly. I think of Ciri from the Witcher: Geralt (and you) totally thought she died but she didn’t! Also, Harry Potter - he died but then also managed to survive!

The Good-Guy to Bad-Guy: I can’t stand the origin of a lot of your “typical” bad guys. This is kind of linked to “The Underestimated” trope I like, but I can’t stand it when they use it as the “explanation” or “excuse” of why the bad guy is the antagonist . I think of Ursula from the Little Mermaid, Hades from Hercules and Maleficent. I think the creators are perhaps trying to get you to sympathize with them (and I do feel sorry for Corypheus, but that’s another post lol), and their origin stories do tug at the heart strings, I just get frustrated with characters who choose to take the “evil” route when they are underestimated, treated poorly or bullied. I guess because in reality there are so many different ways one can deal with being treated poorly other than being a horrible person but yeah... Simultaneously however, what’s the solution? Where should antagonist’s come from? What should their origin story be? And honestly, I don’t actually have a solution XD I guess it depends on the origin story and what caused them to “turn bad” for it not to bother me so much. Because usually you can smell the antagonist a mile away when stories do this.

“American” High Schools: What I mean by this, is that I’m sick and tired of the main characters in high school movies or shows falling into the “jock”, “nerd”, “cheerleader”, “geek”, “perve”, “virgin” or “bullied” category. Especially - ESPECIALLY - the Jock & Cheerleader teasing the protagonist and the protagonist usually being in love with the Jock’s Cheerleader Girlfriend, and then his best friend being the flamboyant, funny one... just no. NO MORE. As soon as I see any TV show or movie use this trope as it’s main “hook” I avoid it like the plague. I understand that perhaps there are a lot of high schools where people perhaps do “fit” into one of these categories but I’m sorry, people are far more complex than that and they are more than just being “the jock” or the “cheerleader” or the “geek”. And of course what goes with all of that is the typical choice of dress, talk and attitude associated with falling into those categories: your “jock” with his jacket, the “cheerleader” with her short skirt, the “geek” whose awkward and wears glasses. Just... enough. That’s enough.

Rain at a Funeral: I don’t think I need to elaborate on this lol

Writing Tropes: I haven’t actually thought about writing anything other than my Halla & Wolf series right now but perhaps if I had to think of a trope I wouldn’t mind tackling, it would be a Lovers in Denial one. I want to write characters that really hate each other in the beginning but are forced to interact and overcome certain obstacles with the help of the other, and then they see other sides to that character they weren’t expecting to see and then they fall in love almost begrudgingly. But then their love is so passionate and real that you can feel how true it is in your bones because of how they got there. Just like if Zuko&Katara got together. Their story and how I think should have ended would be a great source of inspiration for me should I write something like that.

3. Do you have different preferences for reading than you have for writing? If so, is there a reason for it?

I’m currently reading through the DA books in chronological order (I’m currently on Last Flight) and the last time I read anything prior to that was all of Meg Cabot’s books - which was like, 10 years ago. But I think that the type of books I enjoy reading are fantasy ones and after the Little Women movie, I really want to read the book now. And I also loved reading Jane Auston’s books. But it’s hard to answer this one because I haven’t written anything other than my Halla & Wolf series and the last time I did attempt at writing my own stories was when I was like... 12? Hehe

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Phew! I did NOT expect this to get so long but who knew? I certainly didn’t know I had so much to say 😅 thanks for reading all my babble if you managed to get through all of it lol this was certainty fun to do!

[grandenchanterfiona]

My Rating Of The Dragon Age Novels I Have Read*

*I’m only part way through Masked Empire, and I’ve only read the Fiona parts of Asunder, I skimmed the rest, so I’m not rating Asunder. 

The Stolen Throne:

Easily the strongest of the novels. It could never be high literature, but as the trashy pulpy fantasy novel it’s trying to be? It works really well. 

Maric and Loghain’s dynamics are interesting, and while Gaider clearly doesn’t like to give his women characters personality, Rowan is given enough of something like personality to feel real, and to allow the reader to flesh her out themselves. 

There are some extraneous bits that feel like they’re just there for padding and could have been cut (The Legion of the Dead, for example), but seeing as the novel was meant to introduce the world to the Dragon Age world, I can’t really grudge Gaider for including them. 

It needed further editing before it went out the door (ex: Antiva was called ‘Calabria’ in the book) but it’s a video game novel, I don’t exactly expect high art.

The book falls apart near the end, especially with Loghain being painted by the novel as the one responsible for Katriel’s death when Maric is an adult man who made the choice to kill her.

The Calling

Had the potential to be just as good as TST, if it was given room to breathe. It felt like Gaider tried to squeeze what might have worked as an 800 page novel down to 445 pages. 

The main characters were interesting and fleshed out, as was Kell, but Nicolas, Julien, and especially Utha weren’t really given the chance to have personality. Having Maric, Duncan and Fiona all be unable to understand Utha’s signs means we don’t really get to know her as a character. Because of this, her betraying the Wardens kind of...lacks punch?

I wish Maric and Fiona’s relationship had been fleshed out more.

Having Fiona’s torture be shown from Duncan’s POV was a mistake, as was having him check out the man who abused Fiona. 

Someone should have comforted her afterwards. Like, let Hafter come up and lick her or something. It’s fucking human nature to comfort people who are hurting. Wardens are hard and all, but like...? Why did no one comfort her? Ask her if she’s okay? Nothing?

Katriel in the dream sequence 1) doesn’t work and 2) feels gross because it has a woman help the man who murdered her. No.

This needed way more proof reading. More than TST especially. Fiona’s hair color changes multiple times, and it’s distracting and annoying.

Rowan as a character was done so wrong by this book and it’s transparent the only reason she was killed was so Maric doesn’t seem like a cheater.

The Masked Empire

Better written than TST and TC. 

But what’s with Patrick Weekes drawing attention to boobs? 

Framing this story as a love story, even slightly, feels gross.

As does having a murderer kiss the daughter of her victims in the same room as her victims’ dead bodies. Like, that’s some serial killer shit, but it’s portrayed as romantic.

I’m not done yet, but honestly, even though Patrick is a better writer at a technical level than Gaider, he makes all the wrong choices re: plot and characters.

I like Briala and Felassan though. They’re both cool.

[lafaiette]

Vir Suledin - Chapter 4

Direct sequel to Var Lath, which I suggest reading before this one.

Lavellan stays in Solas’ base, hoping to find with him a new way to save the Elven people and all Thedas. Their friends will help too.

Chapter 1 - 2 - 3

Other Solavellan fanfics

What We Need To Fight For

The wisps in her lap thrill excitedly and she realizes Solas is near.

She is used to his wolf form and so she doesn’t gasp or cry out when she glimpses his eyes among the trees; but then something changes and she isn’t looking at a normal wolf anymore, but a much bigger animal, and his eyes aren’t blue, but red.

And there are six of them, three on each side of his face.

She can see the outline of his body behind the trees and he’s way higher than them now; his hot breath ruffles her hair and the air around her gets warmer.

He seems to never end, to reach for the greenish sky above, and black tendrils move near him, like long strands of fur blown away by the wind.

But there is no wind now and Scarlet knows those tendrils are not fur, not really at least.

The wisps float to him and there are spirits in the distance, whispering curious, and part of her mind is telling her she is really seeing a wolf, that this is just another of Solas’ lupine forms, but another part of it is in awe and cannot understand completely what is standing before her.

But then in those red eyes she sees the same love and tenderness Solas always has for her and the giant wolf whines softly, as if he’s expecting a reaction or a question or a reply.

She realizes he looks very concerned and anxious. He is scared, because he doesn’t want her to be scared of him.

So she smiles and calls softly: “Vhenan.”

The wolf makes a happy sound and she sees his wagging tail move behind him; she giggles and Solas makes another gleeful noise, before resting down on the grass, snout between his enormous paws, his six, red eyes staring lovingly at her.

“I could never be scared of you.” she says, scooting to the edge of the woods to be near him. Solas wags his tail faster and blinks at her.

The air is hotter in his proximities and her skin tingles, as if caressed by those strange tendrils she can still see coming out of his body.

She can touch him now and so she does, reaching out for his nose with her right hand, forgetting about her left one that Felassan recreated for her here.

She slowly rests her palm upon the warm snout and Solas closes his eyes as she starts to caress it, a relaxing movement, up and down, up and down. He grumbles happily and she giggles, elation filling every corner of her body and soul.

The Fade around them gets brighter and the spirits and wisps move closer.

“Oh, vhenan!” she exclaims, leaning down to kiss his nose. “You are so cute!”

Her lips feel warmer after the kiss and she feels a strange pull in her chest; she can breathe normally, but her lungs also seem filled with something lighter than air and she hears faint music in the distance, together with a faint, sweet smell.

She stares into Solas’ many eyes and each is the same, intense red color, but she also sees something different in each of them: for a second, she could swear she saw Skyhold reflected in one; in another, she catches a glimpse of a beautiful field full of flowers, in another a golden forest and then…

And then he makes her snap out of it, poking her face with his wet nose. She blinks and looks at him, at loss for words, but enthusiastic and full of wonder.

“Vhenan, what was that? I saw…!”

He whines softly and she knows him so well that she understands what he wants to tell her: to not think about it too much and not worry.

“Is this your complete wolf form?” she asks, stroking his nose. She is still sitting at the edge of the woods and the trees are like a barrier that separates them: if she moves into their quiet shade, she will be at the other side, the side occupied by Solas, where the Fade feels more alive than anywhere else and that sweet scent and the music get stronger.

She doesn’t hesitate. She scoots on the grass some more and enters the soft, green-tinted shadows of the forest, leaving the clearing and joining Solas.

She can see his body better now and it’s enormous like she thought, so much her mind once again cannot fully comprehend what her eyes are seeing. She has to look away, but she smiles at him to show him that she isn’t scared, merely a bit overwhelmed by that new sight.

And then she giggles again, resting her hands on the soft fur of his neck and pressing her face against it. She scratches the tender space behind his huge ears and a low, long rumble echoes in Solas’ throat, making her giggle harder.

“Who is the cutest wolf in Thedas?” she coos, scratching faster, and he grumbles and thumps his head against her, gently to not make her fall, but it’s clear he’s enjoying the cuddles a lot.

“Who is it?” Scarlet continues, kissing the top of his head. The sweet smell invades her nostrils and she sees random, but familiar scenes in her mind: the vast fields of the Hinterlands, the kitchens of Skyhold, the rainy, gray sky of the Storm Coast.

She falls into the black, soft fur and it seems it never ends, it’s like an endless, infinite black sea that embraces her and pulls her gently to its warmest depths, where more places can be seen and where dreams and nightmares are stored without distinctions.

She feels safe, protected, and nuzzles his neck, inhaling the sweet scent and letting more scenes come into her mind, distant memories, often belonging to others who dreamed them or saw them in the past, sometimes just pure, undiluted knowledge from which she can learn more.

There is a small village of Tal-Vashoth in an isolated coast of Rivain and their children are thin and dirty, but always happy and carefree; two famous merchants of Ferelden are married with each other and they sell their wares with secret smiles; Arlathan was filled with corruption and wickedness, but also incredible wonders and magic and its loss that the world suffered hurts like the Blight that first poisons and kills the dwarves underground.

There was a wolf, the same she is hugging now, the same she gave her heart to, the same who gave his heart to her, that used to walk the old world with long, unhurried strides, followed and called by children and elders alike. He brought joy and good dreams everywhere he walked in and the Fade and the spirits were his home and friends.

Scarlet barely notices it, but the black tendrils that are so similar to Solas’ fur are now covering her body like a mantle or cape. They don’t hurt her and they aren’t overly tight; they are just there, holding her against the strong neck, and she can pull away whenever she wants.

But she doesn’t want to pull away, to stop hugging him. After so much time spent apart, they are finally together and perhaps if she falls deeper, if she plunges further into his welcoming, black, warm abyss, then they will be together forever and everything will be alright…

“It’s you.” she murmurs and she can see Solas in his wolf form look at her even though her eyes are closed and her face is still pressed against his neck. She sees him in her head, but she knows it’s real, that he’s really looking at her. “You are the best wolf in Thedas. The kindest and the sweetest.”

The six, red eyes get brighter, shiny like red stars against the dark curtain of the night, and he makes that loving whine again. She smiles and is ready to let herself go completely. She can almost feel it, his soul, thrumming and beating like his giant heart just next to hers and if she keeps going, then she will surely reach it and then they will fuse them together and not even the Evanuris will be able to divide them ever again…

It all stops when two gentle hands lift her head up, slowly, but firmly, and suddenly there is Solas in his normal, elven form in front of her.

Scarlet gasps and looks around, her breathing erratic, only to scream when she sees the ethereal, formless faces of many spirits stand just a few inches from hers.

“Please leave.” Solas tells them and the spirits, their curiosity and expectation not sated, hesitate for a long moment before stepping back, fading into the trees and tall grass. They wait there, still hoping that whatever they wanted to happen will finally come.

Scarlet moves her eyes back to Solas, pale and shaking.

“Breathe, ma vhenan.” he says lovingly, stroking her cheeks. “Breathe.”

“What happened?” she asks. “I… I was caressing you and then I saw… I saw…”

“Forgive me.” he says, his expression shifting into great worry. “I didn’t think about the effect that form could have on you. Even with the Fade restrained by the Veil, it seems it can still be quite strong.”

Scarlet tilts her head, confused, then his attire catches her attention: he is wearing simple elven clothes just like her, but also a long, black cape, made of the same fur he had as a wolf.

“Was that your complete wolf form?” she repeats, remembering he didn’t really answer her before.

He does this time, nodding slowly, a timid smile tugging at his lips.

“It felt different in old Elvhenan.” he explains. “But you experienced some of it.” The anxiety she saw before in his red eyes comes back and he asks shyly, fearing the worst: “Did it scare you?”

Scarlet smiles at him and sighs fondly, shaking her head.

“Oh, Solas.” she says, cupping his cheek. “I told you, I could never be scared of you.” She beams at him and exclaims: “You were so cute! A big, fluffy ball of adorableness!”

He chuckles, face all red, but they are interrupted by the spirits whispering with each other and Scarlet is reminded of their presence and their mysterious behavior.

“Are they waiting for something?” she asks, whispering, and when Solas doesn’t answer, she turns to him and sees his sad face. “Ma vhenan, what were they expecting to happen? Why were they staring at me like that?”

“They thought they were finally going to witness a fusion of souls again.” His smile is sorrowful as he speaks. “That was the final step in making love with another Elvhen before the Veil. Bodies lost all weight and only souls remained, ready to mingle and fuse together, until two became one.”

His smile turns a bit playful, roguish even, which surprises her.

“At least that’s what I was told. I never experienced it myself.”

Scarlet blushes and looks down at their joined hands, not-so-secretly happy that their time together in bed, in the waking world, has been Solas’ first time too.

But now she yearns for this fusion of souls, she wants to take this next step with him and experience it together. She is sure she caught a glimpse of it in the Vir Dirthara, the memory of those two lovers dancing in the air, and now she even tasted it for a second, a brief moment that filled her entire being with warmth and peace and love, so much she could almost touch it.

“Why…” she starts, timid, fearing his answer. “Why did you interrupt it?”

“Because the Fade isn’t like it used to be, my love. You were going to get hurt and lose yourself.”

He squeezes her right hand and adds, softly: “As I said, you also experienced the effects of my wolf form. You saw the old memories and knowledge that I carry within me. The dreams I saw, remembered, gathered, and created over the millennia. The sleeping souls I met. That would have hurt you greatly too, especially since you aren’t used to such magic.”

“Should the Veil be destroyed… Should the Fade get normal again…” Scarlet takes a deep breath and sees hope shine in Solas’ eyes. “Then… would you do that with me? Would you teach me how to watch the dreams you carry without danger? Would you…”

She stops, shy and embarrassed, and doesn’t know how to pronounce that question burning in her throat. This means more than asking him to make love, this would be becoming one single entity and maybe he…

“Oh, ma vhenan.” he murmurs, his voice shaky with emotion. He wraps his arms around her and presses his lips on hers, just for a moment though, because he wants to look at her as much as possible.

“Of course I would fuse my soul with yours, it’s one of my greatest desires! It has been since we kissed in the Fade, so many years ago!” He kisses her again and this time he pulls back only when they have to catch their breath again. There are tears in his eyes.

“My love, oh my love!” he exclaims, cradling her face in his broad, calloused hands. “I would show you so many things, so many more memories and dreams! I would show you the most beautiful magic and spells and take you to the fairest skies to observe the clouds and stars in peace. And then, once night falls after days of eternal peace, I would lay you down on our bed, the softest bed one can imagine, and touch your heart with mine, for all eternity.”

Tears fill Scarlet’s eyes too and she chokes on a sob. She thinks about what she learned from Felassan, the terrible outcome that awaits them no matter what they do: they are damned if they make the Veil fall normally, but also if they find another way and everyone survives.

Either the Evanuris or the vengeful, furious Mythal will be their ruin. This, they cannot avoid and she doesn’t know what to do, because she now knows what Solas intends to do - for her! - and she knows their probabilities of success are low.

There are so many things she would like to do and see with him, but they cannot do them. They won’t even be able to experience that world of magic with their friends.

And now, just a day after her arrival in his base, she is left hopeless and feels helpless, useless, so full of despair that even breathing is hard. The Fade reacts to her emotions and the curious spirits disappear, frightened, while the air gets colder and demons whisper menacingly from afar, refrained only by Solas’ presence.

“My love.” he whispers, lulling her in his arms as she cries and sobs on his chest. “It will be alright. If these calculations you and Dorian made are exact, there might still be a chance to…”

“It won’t be alright!” Scarlet wails, digging her fingers into the fur of his cape, which Solas wrapped around her. “Vhenan, it won’t be alright!”

“Why do you say that?” He gives her a bittersweet, lopsided smile. “We cannot be sure until we study them together.”

She can’t tell him that she knows about the freedom the Evanuris will achieve if they proceed with this new plan she and the others so painstakingly worked on in the past, long months. She can’t tell him that she knows that he knows about the real possibility of that catastrophic event and that he is doing this only for her.

So she bites her lips and presses her face against his chest again, hiding her tearful eyes there and letting his warm hands caress her back, while his fur cape embrace them both like a comfortable cocoon.

“Don’t have doubts.” he murmurs in her ear, his lips following the long, sharp shape of it. “You have always been a brilliant woman, vhenan. You of all people surely found the right way to make things better.”

She can hear a smile in his voice and so she smiles too, knowing he wants to reassure her and comfort her after witnessing her brief, but intense outburst.

She still feels weird, to be honest, and her tears don’t stop easily; panic and anxiety are all mixed together in her heart and head and she now fears the future, because she cannot see a good outcome anywhere.

Solas thinks that the world would be safe if he just proceeded with his normal plan, not aware of the fact that Mythal - his mother? - is in fact planning to free the Evanuris to kill them no matter what or who stands in her way.

Does he feel regret then? Does he regret choosing to follow Scarlet’s idea and plan? If he doesn’t now, he will sure do so in the future, when their enemies will be freed because of their actions and not Mythal’s.

And Scarlet doesn’t have the heart to tell him that his mother actually tricked him and has every intention of doing it again, should he keep the Evanuris locked away in their prison. She just can’t do that and she has the terrible impression that Mythal actually hurt him in the past, considering all the trouble he has in trusting other people.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, nuzzling her cheek. “I can feel you think hard about something, vhenan, and even if I cannot see your face, I know it is not pleasant. Tell me what haunts you so.”

“I… I’m just worried.” she replies, not really a lie, and Solas hums, continuing to nuzzle her cheek with his nose and mouth.

“Don’t be.” he says, lifting her head so she can look at him. He passes his thumbs over her eyes and her tears finally stop flowing. He is smiling now.

“We will find a solution together.” he promises and her lower lip trembles again, because she is supposed to reassure him, that’s why she is here, but instead she is only making everything worse and everything she discovered and studied until now feels stupid and dangerous.

Solas gets worried and brings his hands back on her cheeks to stare into her eyes, looking for an answer, something that might explain why she is so upset now.

“What happened, Scarlet?” he asks and that question alone makes her heart quiver. “You were so hopeful before. What frightened you so?”

She doesn’t answer immediately and he remembers something important that he momentarily pushed aside.

“I couldn’t find you sooner.” he says, brushing some red locks away from her face and eyes. “I usually can, but this time I couldn’t sense your presence anywhere in the Fade, even though I saw you fall asleep.” His eyes are still loving and kind, but firmness appears in them too. “Did you meet someone?”

She would smile, if she had the strength. As usual, he is so charmingly and terribly perceptive of everything, especially her emotions and feelings. The fact that she tends to be an open book around him and their friends doesn’t help.

“A spirit.” she answers, hoping the Fade won’t reveal her lie to him. Or perhaps it isn’t even a lie and she really met a spirit who just thought to be Felassan after being amazed by his life, just like it happened with Divine Justinia.

Solas hums and presses his lips on his nose before insisting: “What kind of spirit? What did it want?” He frowns and adds with a grumble: “It must have been a very powerful being. It was able to hide you from me for a time.”

“I… I think it was a spirit of Wisdom.” She shakes her head. A part of her wants to believe that what Felassan - or whatever that was - told her was not really wisdom, but a big mistake and that the alternative solution she found won’t really cause a mess, that everything truly will be alright.

Bu the rational part of her tells her that Felassan was probably telling her the truth, that he is right, and so his words really did contain wisdom, wisdom and knowledge that she absolutely needed, despite how much it hurt to hear them.

Solas’ worry grows and fear flickers in his eyes. He suspects she knows and he doesn’t want her to know.

He doesn’t want her to suffer, although it will be inevitable later. It sounds very familiar, it’s something he already did, but this time she does know and doesn’t want him to know that yet. Not here and now, anyway.

“What did it tell you?” he asks, panic rising in him. “What did it say?”

“It just…” Scarlet hesitates for a moment, then smiles and shakes her head. “It just told me to be cautious with what the others and I discovered.”

Solas observes her for a long moment before sighing and smiling. He kisses her - and they both cling to that kiss as if their lives depend on it - and then hurries to reassure her again:

“It will be alright, vhenan. We will find a way. Now I know and believe this.”

Those last words have a special effect on her. She remembers what she told him in front of the eluvian, when her arm was on fire and his eyes were full of despair, and she realizes she wouldn’t give up so soon.

She never did that, after all. Even in the darkest times, even when everyone else believed all was lost or things couldn’t change, she kept her smile and hope strong in her heart and never wavered.

And now, just because she heard bad news from a spirit or a mysterious Dreamer, she can’t see any kind of light on the horizon anymore?

She gave up even before discussing about it with Solas and the others, she just let the news hit her and decided to stay down on the ground instead of getting up. This isn’t the Scarlet she knows and she can’t let this hurt Solas too.

Perhaps Felassan was wrong. Perhaps there is a way to defeat the Evanuris. They can find it, all together - elves, humans, dwarves, Qunari. Wouldn’t that be better than constantly watch over a group of homicidal assholes for all eternity?

Var lath vir suledin. That’s what she believes too and she won’t let fear defeat her, because that would mean the Evanuris already won.

So she will show Solas what she and the others discovered and together they will find further solutions to the new problem, one step at a time, until Thedas will be safe and whole and healthy again.

Hope comes back in her heart and she sighs relieved. She can do this. She was the Inquisitor and her stubbornness is second only to her infinite optimism and her love for Solas.

She pats her cheeks and face hard with the palms of her hands, so hard Solas makes a surprised, alarmed noise, but the sharp, sudden pain helps her think even better and her tears disappear.

Something touches her legs and she looks down: flowers bloomed where she and Solas are sitting and the trees have gotten taller and bear more fruits. Their leaves are more golden than ever before and the playful wisps come back, thrilling joyously.

“Are you feeling better?” Solas asks with a sweet, hopeful smile and she smiles back, nodding.

“Yes.” She roughly rubs her eyes with her left hand, so that tears will really have no way to come back, then looks down at it pensively. “Remove it, please?”

He blinks, taken aback, and she giggles in front of his goofy, endearing expression.

“I don’t like to still have it in my dreams. I don’t have it anymore in the waking world, so I tend to notice the difference when I wake up.” She kisses his cleft chin. “I got used to it now. And I don’t want to miss it anymore.”

Solas looks at her arm, then at her, then at her arm again in complete silence. Then it’s gone, as if it was never there, and the sleeve of her dress hangs loosely, much to her relief.

“Much better. Thank you.” she sighs happily, before kissing him and asking softly: “Can we change place too?”

He wraps the cape tighter around her as she rests her head on his shoulder; he presses his lips on the top of her head, asking:

“Where would you like to go, ma vhenan?”

“Somewhere more private!” she exclaims, but using a low, whispering voice; the spirits came back and are watching them from behind the trees again.

Solas recognizes the shyness in her voice and chuckles, resting one hand on her back and the other on her thigh.

“What about here?” he says and in a moment their surroundings change, the magical forest replaced by a familiar sight in just a heartbeat: it’s Scarlet’s clan, with its nostalgic hearth and aravels welcoming them.

“Oh!” Scarlet gasps, overjoyed. She would lie if she said she didn’t miss her life there. It has always been dear and beautiful to her, often full of danger and hunger, yes, but also sweet and festive like the sugar they used to steal from the humans.

Even though there is nobody in this dream - memory? - of the camp, it’s like everybody left just a few minutes ago: the fire in the hearth is still strong, food is waiting on the large, dry leaves and wooden plates they used to eat, and the aravels have been equipped and their sails opened to depart soon.

“I remember this place.” she says with a huge smile, looking around. “We are in the woods near Markham. We stayed here for two whole months, because there was a lot of food and the shemlen didn’t bother us much.”

Solas saw memories of her clan before, she showed them to him at the start of the relationship, but they never explored the camp much, since they were so focused on her clan-mates and the events she most remembered dearly.

So now she seizes the chance to do exactly that: to walk with him through the empty, quiet, but still lively camp and show him better how they lived.

She stubbornly ignores the rudimentary statue of Fen’Harel that can be seen in one of the farthest edges of the camp; she feels ashamed to even have it here and remembers painfully all the frightened prayers and bows of her head she offered it.

She wonders why he included it in this depiction of her early home. Perhaps he wanted it to be as most similar as possible to the real one and she squeezes his hand with love and tenderness, bringing him to the aravel she shared with her parents.

“I never showed it properly to you!” she exclaims, bouncing on her feet, and he chuckles seeing her finally so happy. He follows her inside and she is glad to see that everything is just as it was the day she left for the Conclave.

The Fade changes itself depending on her memories and what she expects to find in this dream and if it wasn’t for the unfiltered, at times odd sensations and the different, lighter air and colors, she would think this was the waking world and she was really showing her clan to Solas.

It’s strange to be here after spending so many years inside much bigger rooms and quarters, where she had to share nothing with other people and all the space was reserved to her only.

She makes a happy sound when she spots the bed of dry leaves and old wool that she made with her mother; it’s not as soft as the mattress she had at Skyhold or the one in her new base, but it will always have a special place in her heart, because it’s related to many good memories of her childhood and the smile of her parents.

She sewed a colorful blanket using spare cloths that nobody else had a use for. She even managed to sew halla, aravels, and houses on trees on it, a childish, naïve depiction of Arlathan, the same Solas mentioned when they first talked at Haven.

Not only the style is a bit outdated - she can sew much better now -, but those embroideries also show how silly and ignorant she was and even though she has never been ashamed of her Dalish origins and culture - except for when she learned about the Evanuris -, she now feels a bit mortified and embarrassed.

Solas, clever and observant as ever, notices it and moves closer to her, whispering: “I love it.”

Scarlet blinks and stares quizzically at him, then realizes what he means and mumbles, looking away: “The lines are all wonky.”

He chuckles and lets her hand go to wrap his arm around her waist and pull her closer; he kisses her cheek and insists: “I love this place. Your clan, your aravel, the small trinkets and details that make it yours.”

She turns to look back at her private space. Above her bed, her father installed a small, short shelf made of wood and she put all kinds of things on it: colorful pebbles she found on the ground when she was little, beautiful pieces of clothes, her needle box and her set of colored threads, a small doll her mother made for her, a few books, and some pages full of silly drawings and ideas for clothes.

She groans and blushes even harder, looking away a second time.

“I was very young.” she mumbles and Solas chuckles again, endeared by her words and shyness.

“Oh, my love.” he whispers in her ear, making a pleasant shiver run down her back. “I love you so much.”

She melts at that and turns to him with a bright smile and wondered how she could ever fear the future, if he is at her side.

“I love you too.” she says, grinning, and slips her only arm around his waist as well, raising herself on her tip-toes to better kiss his lips and forehead.

“You know,” she then adds timidly, her smile a big goofy, “newly married couples would get a new private aravel all for themselves.”

Fearing she said too much, she immediately bites her lips and curses her stupidity, but Solas looks happier than ever and all the worries and darkness that haunted him the previous day seem gone now.

“And how did you imagine ours?” he asks, knowing perfectly what she was hinting at. Scarlet gets redder than her hair and the pillow on her bed and babbles something.

“Perhaps with many quilts and furs scattered on the floor?” he tries, a knowing, sweet smile on his lips as he brings them close to her ear. “And flower pots hanging from the ceiling, books on long shelves, and a large bed made of leaves against the biggest wall.”

Scarlet giggles, hiding her face behind her hand, but Solas gently pulls it away and kisses it while she keeps laughing.

“That’s… that’s a very accurate description of what I imagined, yes.” she admits, then she tries to poke his nose as he continues to kiss her hand.

Then she gathers more courage and blurts out: “I also imagined plushes and toys. For the children.”

Solas stops at that. They have been dreaming about their kids for years and once Solas even drew the map of a house Scarlet saw in a book, a little cottage where they could live together in perfect harmony.

And after seeing that picture, she could never stop thinking about it. If at first she imagined her married life with Solas in the clan, inside a private aravel, after finding that picture in a book she started dreaming only of that cottage.

Many of her clan-mates left the aravels to go live in the houses of Wycome: they found their own space, their own land, and transferred their families and lives there. They didn’t forget about their Dalish heritage, but they also accepted the change, accepted the opportunity to have more and sometimes better.

Even though the aravels and the camps she made with her clan will always hold a special, warm place in her heart, now what she wants to see is that cottage. What she wants to hear is voices coming from the second floor; what she wants to smell is not the pungent smell of smoke coming from the hearth at the center of the camp, but sweet herbs and dry flowers in the cozy living room and honey and cinnamon in the warm kitchen.

She wants to have a bedroom to kiss Solas and be kissed by him on their marital bed; she wants to play with their children in their rooms. She can still remember the map Solas drew, she can remember all the rooms he planned, all her timid suggestions, all the wishful dreams she had.

And so she cries. Quietly at first, but then she bursts into sobs and Solas is quick to pull her closer again and kiss her wet cheeks. They are not tears of despair, but of hope and love instead and he knows the difference and doesn’t panic.

“Solas!” she cries, clinging to his shirt and letting him embrace her with the cape again. “Solas, do you remember that cottage I saw in that book? The map of it you drew?”

“Of course I remember it.” He kisses her nose and jaw and then looks into her eyes. There is only love and tenderness on his face. “Why do you ask?”

“Bring us there, please. Show it to me now. I want to see it and… and I want to see it with all the magic restored. With our friends and all the races of Thedas alive.”

Solas doesn’t reply this time, too stunned to do so. Scarlet smiles at him through her tears and dries them, hurrying to say: “You don’t have to come with me, if you don’t want to. Just transform the Fade around me when I’ll leave the aravel and…”

“Why do you want to see it?” He shakes his head and takes a deep, shaky breath. “I never had the courage to explore fully such a dream. I knew it would hurt immensely, because I thought…”

“Because you thought it couldn’t come true. But we have to hope now, Solas, we have to hope more than we ever hoped before!” She swallows her last tears and cups his cheek. “Ma vhenan, we have to see with our own eyes what we need to fight for. We have to see the beautiful future that awaits us if we give our best and never stop hoping.”

It’s Solas’ turn to cry now. He closes his eyes and tears run down his cheeks; he makes no sound, but he exhales slowly and relaxes as Scarlet presses her lips on his wet face like he did before with her.

“Solas, please. I need to see it. I need to see that future.” She knows he’s thinking about the Evanuris, about the freedom they will find if they proceed with the alternative plan, about the chaos and destruction they will bring into Thedas.

Her resolve gets stronger, her desire to save everyone and ensure a happy future for everybody, for herself and Solas, grows until she can barely contain it.

So she takes a deep breath and rests her head on his shoulder, stroking his back and saying softly: “It will be alright, ma vhenan. You told me so, remember? It will be alright.”

“Yes.” He tightens his hold on her. “Yes, you are right.”

He gently pulls away to look at her and smiles, his hands resting once again on either side of her face, squishing her cheeks. It was something that she used to do a lot with him, one of their sweet, domestic games that they often played together, and she giggles, blushing when he leans down to kiss her nose.

She feels a vibration in the air and even though the aravel is unchanged, she knows the outside will be different and they will see a totally new landscape.

“Ready, vhenan?” Solas asks her, smiling. His hands are shaking and there is a bit of panic in his gray-blue eyes, but he looks impatient to see what their future might indeed hold if they are clever, strong, and lucky.

“Yes.” Scarlet leans in to press her lips on his and just as they pull away to get out of the aravel together, a new sound echoes loudly in the air.

She yelps, jumping out of her skin, while Solas maintains a certain composure, but looks as shocked as her. The noise becomes louder, clearer, until Scarlet recognizes it and exclaims:

“The magic crystal!”

And that’s when they wake up.

- - - -

The crystal Dorian gave her is indeed ringing, but Scarlet has little strength to take it here in the waking world: the wound on her right arm still burns a lot and the stress and pain she went through this morning, together with the little food she has been eating, left her weak.

Solas fetches it for her and hands it to her, watching her with concerned eyes, noticing her pallor. He is clearly also worried about what Dorian might say, despite what she told him the day before.

She opens the locket and taps her fingertip on the shining crystal: the noise stops immediately and they can hear a loud gasp.

“Scarlet?” Dorian’s familiar voice tentatively calls, slightly echoing due to the effect of magic, and she laughs, happy to hear him.

“Hello!” she says, grinning at Solas and then at the crystal. “Guess where I am?”

Dorian splutters something nonsensical and finds the right words only after a considerate effort.

“You…! You almost killed me! You wouldn’t answer my calls and then I got a letter from Leliana which said you and that agent had disappeared and…” He snarls, then makes a noise similar to a sob.

“Oh, Dorian!” Scarlet exclaims, feeling wretched and guilty. “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to worry you all! A lot happened and…”

“Are you alright? Are you really there with him?” The magister hesitates for a moment. “Where are you exactly?”

“I…” Scarlet looks up at Solas, but his gentle smile tells her that he cannot reveal that information to her nor to their friend. Not yet, at least, so she hums and answers as best as she can:

“I am in Solas’ base. Everything is fine, Dorian, there were just…” She sighs and grief strikes her heart again. “Enasalin is dead. The Venatori killed him, but you probably already know this.”

“Yes.” Dorian replies with genuine sorrow. “I am so sorry, my friend. He sounded like a nice fellow.” A pause, then: “Leliana’s letter said they found traces leading to some elven ruins. They followed them and found blood, that poor agent, and a broken eluvian. Did you escape through that?”

“Yes. Enasalin opened it for me, but he didn’t have the chance to follow me.” She remembers with great guilt those moments, although her memory of them is a bit fuzzy due to the poison which numbed her mind.

“Are you hurt?” is Dorian’s next logical question, to which she has to answer truthfully: “… An ugly arrow hit me, yes. Solas healed me.”

“An ugly arrow?” The magister sounds outraged by her choice of words. “What do you mean, an ugly arrow?” He then chokes on another sob and groans something about ‘white hair’ and ‘weak heart’.

“Well, it was poisoned, but just a little bit!” she hurries to say, panicking, but Dorian just panics more and demands to know all the details.

Solas cannot stay quiet any longer and blurts out, almost without realizing it: “I removed the poison from her body, Dorian. She isn’t in danger anymore, she just needs to rest and eat.”

A long silence follows, so long Scarlet thinks the magic connection got interrupted. But suddenly Dorian speaks again and his tone isn’t angry or bitter, just pleasantly surprised and even relieved.

“Now that’s a voice I didn’t think I would hear ever again. Or at least, not like this.” He chuckles and quickly speaks to Scarlet: “See?? I told you everything would be fine! You are finally reunited!”

“Yes.” Scarlet giggles, blushing as she looks up at Solas for a second; she blushes even more when he grins and kisses her.

“Was that the sound of a kiss?” Dorian sounds ecstatic. “Finally some good news in this wretched excuse of a world! Say, when can I come there to disrupt your domestic bliss?”

Solas tenses up at that and Scarlet doesn’t miss the slight jerk of his hand and neck as he stares down at the locket with horror and worry.

“Well…” she starts, biting her lower lip. She actually wanted to spend more time with Solas without thinking about all the things they must do, all the researches they must study and evaluate.

She knows they will have to face that soon, but for now, even though her hope is stronger as ever, all she wants is just stay with him and pretend the world isn’t on the brink of war with the Qunari, that the Veil isn’t getting weaker day by day, and that they won’t have to fight a group of insane false gods soon.

For the first time since she became Inquisitor, she wants to be selfish for a bit and take moments of happiness when she finds them, like Inquisitor Ameridan suggested to her.

“May we wait a little more, Dorian?” she says and she sounds so hopeful and earnest that the magister can’t really say no, although he sighs and replies:

“I know you two need to stay alone with each other and I can’t believe I am saying this, but… we really need to talk about this Veil matter. I looked at our notes yesterday, while trying not to go mad with worry for you, and I believe we came really close to our objective.”

She glances at Solas and is happy to see him more relaxed, at ease.

“I know, Dorian.” she says. “I told him so.”

“I’m glad to hear that you finally changed your mind, you stubborn ass.” Dorian continues, talking to him, and this time he sounds a little annoyed. “And I would give you two all the time in the world if I could, but the others are getting impatient, they are waiting for answers and results, and the Qunari are more relentless than ever. I’m much worried about them, to be honest.”

“I am dealing with them as well.” Solas says, but he doesn’t offer more details and smiles mysteriously at Scarlet’s intrigued look. Of course she knew he was having his own way with the armies of Qunari trying to invade the south, but she never discovered how he did so.

“Excellent, but this won’t last much longer. First you were so eager to see this Veil fall and now you play for time?” Dorian scoffs and grumbles something. “Listen, I will prepare everything and everyone while Scarlet recovers. The sooner we find the right way to destroy the Veil and let everyone survive - because I would very much like to survive, thank you -, the sooner you two will be able to smooch each other and finally be happy for all eternity.”

Scarlet makes a timid noise and scoots closer to Solas; he delicately slides an arm around her shoulders and replies softly:

“Very well. A week should be sufficient.”

“I’ll inform Leliana to send all the notes on my desk here through one of Solas’ agents.” Scarlet adds, remembering every book and piece of paper that she left in her room. “I will show those to Solas in the meantime. Then we will meet…”

She looks at Solas, not knowing how to proceed. Is it alright for the others to come here? But where is here, exactly? Will they be accompanied by his agents through the Crossroads, using the eluvians?

“You will come here.” Solas concludes, as if he read her mind. “My agents will show you the way.” He frowns and hurries to add: “Not before a week, however. That is the time you must give us.”

“Good. See you in a week, then.” Dorian’s tone softens a lot. “Scarlet, my friend, enjoy yourself. I promise I will bother you only to wish you good morning.”

She laughs and replies affectionately: “You are never a bother, Dorian. Feel free to call whenever you want.”

He says goodbye again, this time sounding more choked up than before, then the communication stops and the crystal goes silent, its azure light slowly fading away. Scarlet closes the locket and leans back onto the pillows with a relieved sigh.

Solas doesn’t waste time and moves to her side, placing a tender kiss on her left shoulder.

“That went well.” she says, raising her hand to caress his cheek, and he kisses her palm.

“Yes. I am glad we still have some time to relax and recover before…” He swallows and panic enters his eyes again. “… Before focusing on harder matters.”

Scarlet nods and motions him to rest his head on her shoulder. But he shakes his head and, after resting down on the pillows as well, he moves her to his chest instead.

She giggles, kisses it, then asks: “Will you show me the base today?”

“Are you feeling better? If you want, we can sleep some more.” He chuckles and twirls a strand of red hair around his finger. “Although, now that you are here, the Fade seems extraordinarily dull.”

“That’s the special effect I have! Making people forget about their favorite hobbies.” she jokes, squealing and giggling again when he pinches her butt.

“We shall visit the base, then.” he says, smiling smugly at her. He even has the nerve to wiggle his eyebrows as his hand moves down to her butt again. “There is a library here too. I am sure we will find many interesting books to spend our nights with.”

“Oh.” She pouts, pretending to be offended. “That’s how you want to spend our nights? This wound will heal soon, you know?”

Solas laughs boyishly at that, cheeks red and eyes twinkling with joy; Scarlet laughs with him and they are about to kiss and lose themselves into each other, when…

A knock on the door interrupts them and Solas frowns, sighs, and turns to it without even moving a leg.

“… The effect of silencing spell ended while we were sleeping.” he mumbles, then raises his voice: “Yes?”

“Forgive me, Lord Fen’Harel!” Alas’ nervous voice responds. “Abelas is here and asks to talk with you.”

Solas and Scarlet exchanges a surprised look, then she hurriedly retreats under the covers and blankets to hide her attire. Solas is even more relaxed than before, basically giving no damns about the fact that Abelas is going to enter the room.

Then he seems to change his mind and asks with a scowl: “We expected him much sooner. Apologies should not be delayed so much.”

“I came not to apologize!” Abelas replies from behind the door, causing Solas to get furious and lose all composure. “The agents you sent to Minrathous have returned with important news!”

“Not to apologize?” Solas rises and walks slowly towards the door, fists closed at his sides; his is the gait of a wolf, Scarlet recognizes it now, and his jaw is tightened, his teeth gritted.

He is about to tear the door off its hinges and punch Abelas in the face, or worse.

“Solas!” she calls him, sitting up faster than lightning. “Ma vhenan, come here!”

“You must apologize to her!” Solas shouts, ignoring her. “Do it now! Enter and apologize to her!”

A pause, then Abelas’ serious and somber voice answers: “I will not apologize to that shemlen. She is going to ruin us all.”

Solas shouts some elven words Scarlet doesn’t understand, but before he can lunge at the door and set Abelas on fire, she stands on wobbly feet and runs to him.

“Vhenan!” she calls him, putting herself between him and the door. His eyes are glowing blue like they were doing that morning, after Enasalin’s funeral. “Ma sa’lath, look at me.”

He does so and the glow immediately disappears, letting her see how angry and hurt and sad he is.

“I’m sorry, I…” He shakes his head and then exclaims, shaking: “You shouldn’t be treated this way!”

“Hush, silly wolf.” she says softly, taking his hand and smiling at him. “Everything is fine. Nobody is treating me badly here.”

“But…!”

“Abelas, give us a minute.” she says, raising her voice a bit. “We just have to get dressed.”

“… Very well.”

They hear steps and the clank of armor fading away, then she turns to Solas again: he is glaring at the door and he really looks like an impetuous and bold cub.

She giggles and kisses him for a long minute and that’s enough to calm him down; he hugs her tightly as soon as the kiss ends and she rubs her hand on the small of his back because that’s the only part she can reach with her burning arm.

“Would you help me dress?” she asks, kissing his neck, then gasps: “Solas! Those beautiful clothes you made for me, they are all dirty with blood now!”

“We will clean them, don’t worry.” he says, finally smiling again, even though his voice is hoarse.

He brings her to the chest where he kept all the gifts he couldn’t send her; he retrieves new clothes from there, promising she will see the rest of the presents later without hurry, then helps her to put them on.

After that, he collects the pieces of his armor he just left on the ground and wears it quickly, every movement showing expertise and elegance. He still can’t buckle his belt well, though, so Scarlet helps him with that.

“Ready?” he asks her, just like he did in the Fade, as they were about to leave the aravel. This time it isn’t a dream, this time they are going to step out into his base and she will be finally able to spend the whole day with him, exploring it and meeting his agents.

“Ready.” she nods with a bright smile, which Solas returns with a kiss.

He opens the door and the first thing they see is Adahl and Alas falling on the ground, caught eavesdropping once again.