#solas: vhenan. [ what is the old dalish curse? “may the dread wolf take you”? ]

[iniziare]

Tag drop: Solas

[sky--phantom]

Trespasser! 🫡

btw, pls don't hold the hair clipping against me 😅 this is her hairstyle, and I liked the outfit too much to change it because of the neck.

Also, warning, I ended up rambling at the end 😅

Lavellan when she spots Solas and the Viddasala

I don't know why but this one just seems so funny to me out of context 😂 like, "honey, you know that thing you told me not to do?"

Solas as Lavellan talks about how she discovered he's the Dread Wolf. I don't know how to describe this expression, sad, fond, proud? I think there would be a "Solas approves" here tho 🥲

"What is the old Dalish curse? “May the Dread Wolf take you”?"

"And so he did" (this is the other line that kills me)

They closed their eyes and lowered their heads at the same second during the "I would not have you see what I become". These two angsty mfs

(Though judging by how Solas' bags in DAV + that bit told in the GI article, she wasn’t exactly wrong to say "I cannot bear to think of you alone")

The Anchor flares up

"Solas, var lath vir suledin"

"I wish it could, vhenan."

the kiss 😢

It kills me how he brushes her hair back, and then holds her face. He also holds her hand with his other one.

They both just look so fking wrecked during this kiss.

And then he leaves 😞

now to wait for their next meeting in DAV 🥲

I still can't believe that, besides his visits to her dreams (which I think is probably a whole other post), this is the last time they meet. Pretty sure DAV is 8 years after this.

This was devastating. Both of them are wrecked, this is not what they want, but it's the path Solas has chosen to walk through. It hurts because falling in love with Lavellan is probably one of the few times in a while that Solas has done something just for himself, not for the cause, not for the people, but Solas

("The blame is mine, not yours. It was irresponsible and selfish of me") ("Because I made a selfish mistake. Because you deserve better"),

and he has to break it off. No matter how Lavellan and the other members of the Inquisition have helped him see people as, you know, people, this is a mission he has set for himself, something he believes he has to do, his duty.

(Also, I forgot to mention it during the Crestwood post, but it hurts when he stops saying vhenan and changes to Inquisitor)

So, Solas drags his feet, walking slowly, but still walks away from Lavellan and towards the eluvian. He walks away from the person who fell in love with him when he was just Solas, and walks towards the path where he is Fen'Harel, the god of rebellion who has tried to help his people, even if it doesn't turn out well.

He leaves behind a Lavellan whose heart is breaking for the 3rd time because of the same man, who has to deal with what happens with the Inquisition (mine disbanded with the angry option), and the loss of an arm. Also, you know, dealing with the fact that he is an elven god and wants to destroy the veil.

So, yeah...

Sorry that this got a bit very rambly 😅 I just finished the game a little over 2 weeks ago, and there are a lot of thoughts running around my head.

I'm looking forward to seeing what happens with Solas in DAV, and how the Inquisitor will be integrated into the game as well. (side note, I'm so curious about that, bc they haven't even mentioned if the Inky CC will have the same options as Rook) (I just want to know if there are prosthetics and if they can have body tattoos)

These are more general, just thought they were pretty

[inquisitor-of-hearts]

Fadeless

Solas/Female Inquisitor, Solas/Female Lavellan

Summary: “I am yours - you are mine. Wasn’t it like that?”

What really happened when Solas and Lavellan met past the Eluvian.

Rating: Teen

Warning: Heavy spoilers for all of Trespasser (contains parts of a DAI in-game conversation).

Direct sequel to Faded Souls but can be read on its own (so far no real spoilers for Faded Souls). Might be continued.

Word Count:  2,283

on Ao3

(picture source)

An ache burned through her whole body. It was not her arm - though it hurt, she was almost thankful for it to distract her from the real hurt inside. It was the only reason she could still put on a straight face most of the time. It was much more that after all that time, she was with her companions again but he was missing. The one man who had made this all bearable, was missing.

It had hurt more than anything when Leliana, Vivienne and Blackwall had asked her about him. Out of all people, she had expected Blackwall to be more considerate about it and Vivienne to know the gnawing pain of loss. But these were mere hopes. In the end, she had to face the same question again and again. And again. No word on Solas? It was like everyone expected from him that out of all people, he would reach out to her. Naturally - she was his lover and not merely the Inquisitor to him.

When Lavellan clenched her fist, it was out of physical pain but it was also from remembrance. The warmth of his embrace that at once, in a fleeting sensation, like the wind, blew around her body whenever someone asked. Walking through empty fields made her remember his presence in the fields around Skyhold that they had shared the beginnings of an early spring in. His presence. It was there, in her mind, in Cole’s mind - and possibly in everyone’s mind - and yet he was not. Cole understood everything, or so it seemed, but one could not draw a consistent thought from him when his mind wandered in the fashion of a spirit’s mind. Riddles left her puzzled, at times aroused. She remembered fragments of her dreams with him, the world that he had built for her, for them. But now it had been a long time since he had last answered to her silent calls.

And then it came, the time to meet him. She could not make out whether it had been by coincidence or carefully planned, but secretly hoped for the latter. She was struck down once again by the marking just as she called his name and he turned around. He quieted the pain with a spell cast soundlessly.

“That should give us more time. I suspect you have questions?” “How were you able to control the anchor?” Lavellan spoke in surprise. “In the same way as when I stopped it from killing you at Haven... although I am stronger now. The mark you bear was bestowed upon you by the Orb of Fen’Harel. My orb.” “You’re Fen’Harel.” Lavellan’s words came out softly, she had not quite grasped it yet. “I was Solas first. ‘Fen’Harel’ came later. An insult I took as a badge of pride. The Dread Wolf inspired hope in my friends and fear in my enemies... not unlike ‘Inquisitor’, I suppose.” A sense of hopelessness crept into his voice, threatening to weaken him. “And now you know. What is the old Dalish curse? ‘May the Dread Wolf take you’?” “And so he did.” the elven woman concluded, shaking her head. “I did not. I would not lay with you under false pretenses.” “You laid with me differently.” Lavellan huffed. “Vhenan...” “You lied to me. I loved you. Did you really think I wouldn’t have understood?” “Ir abelas, Vhenan.” The mage lowered his head in guilt. “Tel’abelas. If you care, give me the truth.” she demanded. And Solas obliged at last, walking with her towards the chasm, overlooking the ruins as he told her the story of his people, and the ones they opposed. The inquisitor listened carefully, but the more explanations she received, the more confused she became. Nothing seemed right anymore, even once most concerns had been answered. There was still questions in her head, questions she could not begin to form because her whole world had been shaken by what she had received: the truth.

“No. No!” Lavellan had sunken to her knees, the mage was holding onto her but it made no difference. “It hurts too much” “I will make it go away” he said, raising his hand to hover over hers. “Not that” she pulled her hand away, still holding it in pain as it was glowing. “Let me ease it for you” he tried to appease her, his words devoid of emotion. “No.” She stepped back, tumbled but let go of her arm, her hand pointing at him weakly, accusing him. “I can live with you betraying me, Solas. I’m not stupid. I gathered as much from your letter. There must have been something that you needed to do and whatever it was, it was defying me.” Solas looked at her with a softened expression, the astonishment behind it barely visible. “But the fact that you left and that you always intended to leave me... that hurts.” “I had no choice.” “Stop. You’re a coward. You just can’t face your feelings. You can’t even look at me - you can’t even face me in my dreams anymore.” “Not everyone is as brave as you.” he finally admitted. “That is why I always admired you. It was for that softness in your heart.” Lavellan listened to his words, holding onto her arm that was throbbing with its pain, the light radiating from it. “Let me make it better. I can’t bear losing you.” he pleaded, his hand on hers. But she pulled away. “What does it matter now?!” Lavellan was close to breaking out in tears, but her anger would not allow it. “It matters to me.”

Her field of vision darkened, the pain grew stronger, impossible to conceal and finally she screamed in agony. A light emerged from the dark and surrounded her. Everything turned white. When the elven woman looked around, another world emerged around her. The smell of that fresh grassland, the tree under which she used to lie with him. It was the scenery of that familiar memory. With a startle, Lavellan realized Solas was standing across from her just as she turned her head around to face what was on the other side. He wore the very same armour she had seen on him when she had met him past the Eluvian.

“Where are we?” “A safe place.” he answered calmly, his arms crossed behind his back. The distance between them was finally overcome with his slow steps towards her. “I don’t understand. What happened?” she asked. Her gaze could not help but occasionally wander to sort her surroundings into her memories. It must be the Fade, and once that thought crept into her mind, she was almost sure of it. “You fainted.” His tone did not carry any emotion. “Why did I-- why did I faint?” Lavellan swallowed, an uneasy feeling widened in her heart and she did not know whether she wanted to hear the answer. “You will know when you wake up.” Solas took his last step towards her, at last they stood only inches apart. “I know your hurt, Vhenan. I understand it. Don’t think I am taking this lightly.” Lavellan closed her eyes, frowned at their conversation that seemed just a moment ago. She had been angry, she remembered that clearly, before becoming so confused. And now the pain was gone - all pain was, in fact, gone. But there had been something she was so angry about. “I have so many questions” she shook her head, trying to chase the clouds off her mind, “You did not... I need more answers. You promised me to talk to me once this is all over and then you were gone.” “I talked to you just now, didn’t I?” His voice was calm and smooth, the arms released from behind his back. “No” She shook her head, looked at him with an expression of agony that was remembered but not felt. “That is not an answer to why you left me. I could have come with you.” “I cannot put that burden onto you.” he answered, his voice clear but the expression around the eyes softened. “I can take it. Your burden is my burden.” She reached out to him, both hands on his arms, running down towards his wrists. But she stopped there and did not push herself onto him. Their hands touching was a different sort of intimacy. “I am yours - you are mine. Wasn’t it like that?” The elven mage tilted his head, then lowered his gaze. One could not tell if it was in shame or if pain had befallen him. “I need more time.” Swiftly his hands turned so as to hold onto her wrists, then they ran past the back of her hands. “I’ll take it, Solas, I’ll carry it! Your burden and mine. Just don’t--” Before she could say it, tears ran down her face. “I need more time.” The frustration was visible on his face but he looked at her carefully and for a long time, giving his words the depth they needed.

“No” she pleaded softly, but already in her awoken state, eyes opening at once.

A shadowed figure sat beside her, and as she startled visibly, her arm settled on the bed, but wanting to lift herself up, she froze in shock, realizing half of her left arm was missing. Her lips parted, and she breathed hastily while lifting herself up to sit, watching the dark figure with an expression of confusion. She waited for the elven mage’s face to appear as the figure moved into the source of light next to her bed, but the candle’s flame revealed Leliana’s unmoved features instead. Her breath was still hitching, and with her head tilted in distress, she expected answers, yet before she had the strength to form a question in her head, she broke out in tears. Uncontrollably her body began to shake, and loud sobbing released every feeling she had held back all this time.

Leliana let her cry, watched her, devoid of any emotion, but in that unmoved state gave her more hold than she could have possibly imagined. Eventually, after minutes of not a word spoken, Lavellan’s sobbing ebbed off and as countless times before, she drew her breath in restlessly, sharply wheezing. “What--” She swallowed, closed her eyes and shed the tears, but then managed to stabilize her voice. “What happened?” “That’s what we meant to ask you. They found you on the other side of the Eluvian. You went in alone, do you remember?” “I do.” Her memory was in tact, so much even that tears emerged again silently as she remembered the mage’s presence. “Then you know best. Did you find him?” Leliana asked with only a hint of curiosity. “I did.” The Inquisitor clenched her fist and closed her eyes, then again, tears flowed, for she could not clench the other. Leliana waited patiently but as Lavellan met her gaze, she lowered it almost instantly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Well, you don’t answer to me.” the red-haired woman spoke and Lavellan looked up in surprise. “Just know that you will be asked that question as often as you were asked the other one.” Slowly the inquisitor nodded. She knew, on all matters regarding Solas, she was the one to answer, time and again, even though it felt like she barely knew anything, now more than ever.

“Dearest-- Inquisitor!” Leliana had held off the inquisitor long enough and not allowed any visits for the night, but as Josephine saw the damage with her own eyes on the following day, she was about to faint. The shock would not wear off. Nervous steps took her across the chamber that served as their meeting room, and Cullen stood in the back, eyes following the woman as she went back and forth. “How are we going to explain this to the Exalted Council?” Josephine’s hands were raised to her head as she shook it, standing still between the desk and window at last. “This should be the least of our worries. The Inquisition is in danger.” Leliana commented. So much for empathy. Her advisors had obviously more important issues to worry about. “Did he do that?” Cullen had suddenly come to the shorter edge of the table and stood between the two parties, the ambassador on one side, the inquisitor and Leliana on the other. Tears shot up in Lavellan’s eyes, for once not because of Solas, but because someone remembered to care about her. “I don’t-- I don’t exactly know.” she admitted, and the water in her eyes was gone; she had gathered the strength to transition to her unattached dutiful state. Leliana and Josephine both watched her, then eyed Cullen simultaneously.

“Yes. That’s the only way.” Josephine conducted in a suddenly calm manner, “We will have to blame it all on Solas. That is the only way we can get out of this with a limp.” Lavellan’s eyes pleaded grievingly, and Josephine was quick to see her mistake. “I beg your forgiveness, Inquisitor. An inept figure of speech.” “But you are right. We have to blame him, and try to keep the Inquisition. Isn’t that the only way we can go on fighting?” the Spymaster asked. “I am tired of fighting.” Lavellan commented quietly, and all three advisors watched her but only the Commander’s eyes lingered. It was he who gave her the most condolence with how little he spoke, and strangely enough, it was Leliana who lent her strength by her unfaltering will to withstand any emotion. And Josephine, she meant well. She wanted to take care of things, of all the things that were going wrong. But Lavellan had signed off.

[imakemywings]

I’m sorry I’m watching my video capture of Trespasser’s climax again and it’s killing me

1. How Lavellan startles and then starts running when she hears Solas’ voice; you can see her movements get panicked when it’s followed by the Vidassala’s voice.

2. How slowly he turns when she says his name; he knew this moment was coming, and still he isn’t prepared

3. The fucking music. They drive the excitement of this climax so hard and it works so well, you are rabid for answers by the time you reach him.

4. The agony in Lavellan’s cries when the anchor starts flaring, the way it drops her to her knees from the pain.

5. The softness in Solas’ voice when he “suspects you have questions”

6. Conversely, the dismay in Lavellan’s voice with “You’re Fen’harel”

7. G O D the fucking pain in the “What is the old Dalish curse? May the Dread Wolf take you?” / “And so he did.” exchange just fucking run me down

7.5 “But you lied to me. I loved you. Did you really think I wouldn’t have understood?” The actual suffering and self-loathing in Lavellan’s voice as she realizes he might have been lying to her all along.

7.75. The shame in “Ir abelas, ma vhenan.”

8. TEL’ABELAS

9. The way Lavellan’s voice almost trembles when she says “If you care, give me the truth” and steps towards him, and Solas steps back, away from her, the way he did when he broke up with her

10. They fall right back into talking philosophy, morality, etc. just like they used to; again Lavellan’s inquisitiveness shows itself and Solas indulges her as long as he can.

11. The pain and anger in Solas’ voice when he talks about the Evanuris, and the way his actions unintentionally doomed the elves

12. MORE SHAME in that “I never thought of you as someone who would do something like this, Solas.” / “Thank you.” exchange he KNOWS this is fucked up

13. “We aren’t even people to you.” --> “You never cared about us. We were a means to an end.”

14. VAR LATH VIR SULEDIN

15. Do I even need to mention the kiss

16. The look on Lavellan’s face as he walks away

17. Now she has to go back and tell everyone else her ex-lover is actually Fen’harel and is trying to destroy the world

[thebookworm0001]

Uh, Vida decided to be angry so have a tiny trespasser rewrite

-

“What is the old Dalish curse? May the dread wolf take you?”

“And so he did.” The words held more sadness than she had cared to show, but they still tasted like bile on her tongue.

“I did not. I would not lay with you under false pretenses.” Vida scoffed, and she searched for her words in the horizon.

“You always were a shit liar, Solas.” How many times had they laid together? What did that even mean to him? Was it all the times he’d fucked her or just the times he’d refused to stay after? At least he had the courtesy to look guilty. She could see it in the way his eyes turned from hers and how his lips tightened. How he lowered his head like a shamed dog. She’d loved him. Had he really thought she wouldn’t have understood? Or was he just too much of a coward to own his mistakes? Even fucking Thom Rainer had walked to his death with more dignity.

“Ir abelas, Vhenan.”

[kita-lavellan]

Thank you for tagging me @serial-chillr, @theaiobhan, @elveny, and @cartadwarfwithaheartofgold. You’re all super sweet ^_^

1. Do you have a favourite character to write? Who and why? I absolutely adore writing The Doctor from the Doctor Who fandom. Mainly because, with the whole regeneration ability, there’s so much variety to the character. Additionally, because The Doctor has lived for so long there’s so much depth and emotion to work with, and if you want you can turn them into something entirely new. It’s a character that envelopes and takes on whatever you want to do with them and it’s a lot of fun.

Across all fandoms, I love writing Intelligent characters. For a similar reason to the Doctor, when your character is smart it gives you the freedom to do pretty much anything you want because you can have this character as the cause, or catalyst.

2. Do you have a favourite trope to write? Or one you want to write? I don’t really pay attention to tropes, or popular tropes so I’m not sure what I could list as a favourite. I love Happy Endings, and Slow Burns, but I wouldn’t really consider them Tropes. I write what I want to see happen, and if that happens to include a popular trope then it does.

3. Share your favourite description you’ve written?

A snippet from the next, unpublished, chapter of my Doctor Who Fanfiction.

Despite their individual concerns about fitting into the routine at Alpha camp, both Rose and Martha quickly found themselves absorbed in the day to day life of the Torchwood officers surrounding them.

Rose continued to wake early, although not quite as early as her first morning, and began to join the officers morning exercise routine, leaving the training grounds just in time to take a shower and meet Professor Smith outside their cabins for 8am.

Martha met them both for breakfast in the communal hall, usually regaling them both with things she'd learnt during the previous day working in the medical office. When they didn't have patients to tend, Doctor Leen had been thrilled to discover that Martha wanted to learn as much as she could about the medical needs of the various species around camp and had taken the young woman under his personal tutelage.

While Martha spent her days either practising medicine or studying it with Doctor Leen, Rose found herself quickly renting an interface for digital books from the requisitions officer to give herself something to do while Professor Smith lost himself in the alien language the Torchwood Archive had hired him to work on.

Surrounded by high walls, electric fences and a full accompaniment of soldiers, Rose was beginning to wonder just how much personal protection Professor Smith really needed, but it was oddly reassuring to have the human-Doctor within eyesight at all times so she didn't complain, not even internally towards the Tardis, and continued to spend most of her day reading.

4. Share your favourite dialogue you’ve written?

My rewrite of the Trespasser scene from DAI, I’ve not finished it yet, but I’m adoring adding in dialogue from all the various options to create a more in-depth discussion between the Inquisitor and Solas.

“And now you know,” he added, snapping her attention back to the present as his voice broke. For all his masks and deceptions, Solas couldn’t lie to her. He never had, and she clung to that small but not insignificant detail with desperate hope as he continued, voice shaking, “What is the old Dalish curse? ‘May the Dread Wolf take you’?”

Kita loosed a mirthless laugh, wet with tears as they began to leak from her eyes and spill across her cheeks, bare of Vallaslin because of the man before her, and she brushed the droplets away roughly.

“And so he did…”

“I did not,” Solas cut her off quickly, the pain on his face at her tears just made her cry harder, “I would not lay with you under false pretences-”

“Oh, you may not have taken my body, but you long ago laid claim to my heart, Solas,” Kita threw back. There was no condemnation there though, nothing for him to rail or fight against, and with a moment of silence and a few steadying breaths, Kita was able to bring her storm of emotions under control, wiping the last of her tears away so she could once again face the god before her.

“I loved you. Did you really think I wouldn’t have understood?” Kita asked, voice catching despite herself, and Solas winced, before shaking his head, a frown appearing quickly for him to hide his pain behind.

“What would you have had me say? That I was the great adversary of your people’s mythology?!” he snapped, like a dog whose paw had been stepped on, lashing out in pain and stepping closer to her. Stepping into her frame and willing her to back away, to back down. To prove him right. 

“I would have had you trust me!” Kita snarled back, shifting even closer. She’d never once been willing to back down from any of their heated debates, and this argument was not going to be the first time she ceded to him. She had to make him understand that he had been wrong, and as he stared down at her, expression furious and meeting her own angry gaze Kita was almost amazed to see him give in.

Anger and frustration melted into heartbroken sadness and Solas shook his head slowly.

“Ir abelas, vhenan,” Solas whispered, shoulders dropping in resignation and Kita’s breath caught at the soft endearment she would have given up almost anything to hear once more, since the night at Crestwood.

5. Scene you haven’t written, but want to?

A smut scene between my Inquisitor and Solas. I HC that they didn’t do anything more than kissing, potentially some heavy petting, during Inquisition, so I’ve not had the opportunity to explore that dynamic yet. 

Tagging forward to; @faerelden, @this-basic-mage, @noire-pandora, @inquisitor-veowyn and anyone else who wants to take part (tag me so I can read) Answer any or all if you feel like it - I want to hear about all the things you write!

[elfrootaddict]

Now You Know - Chapter 3/8

CONTAINS SPOILERS - DO NOT READ ON UNTIL YOU HAVE COMPLETED DAI TRESPASSER DLC!

DESCRIPTION: Experience (my first) Lavellan’s thoughts and feelings during the final cut scene of the Trespasser DLC. Including her experience when she loses the Anchor.

Chapter 1 ¦ Chapter 2 ¦ Chapter 3 ¦ Chapter 4 ¦ Chapter 5 ¦ Chapter 6 ¦ Chapter 7 ¦ Chapter 8

***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***

To all those in Solavellan Hell,

I have written this to not only express my emotions but to hopefully capture some of yours, too.

After completing Trespasser, and going through the hell that is the final cut scene, I had to do something. So, to help myself work through it, I’ve written (my first) Lavellan’s thoughts and experiences down during the DLC’s final cut scene.

This is my very first FanFic, so I hope it doesn’t turn out completely terrible. *fingers crossed*

Happy Dragon 4ge Day!

WARNING: Chapter 6 contains a moment of distress and gore. Read with sensitivity and discretion.

***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***   ***

CHAPTER 3

You suspect I have questions? If there is an understated question in the whole of Thedas to the Fade, Solas, this would be it. 

With the anchor subdued, Lavellan uses a trick when in battle to calm her mind. But in spite of that, adrenaline is surging through her body and her heart is beating so fast. His gaze on her makes her legs feel weak. She wants nothing more than for him to hold her and tell her how much she means to him. How much he missed her.

With a steady voice she asks, “How were you able to control the Anchor?” 

Solas solemnly replies, “The same way as when I stopped it from killing you at Haven… although I am stronger now. The mark you bear was bestowed upon you by the Orb of Fen’Harel,” he pauses. “My Orb.”

Lavellan nearly loses her balance. 

His Orb?!

Within a split second, everything starts to make sense and all the puzzle pieces start to fall into place. 

He’s the Dread Wolf. He’s Fen’Harel. Mir Harellan!

She feels her stomach drop. She has to hold back the need to regurgitate from the shock of reality. She is no longer looking at her vhenan, but a living legend. All the tales from the Dalish comes bounding over her. 

She can hear the voice of Keeper Deshanna, “They trusted Fen’Harel, and they were all betrayed. And Fen’Harel sealed them away so they could never again walk among the People.” 

But like a much needed cool breeze on a hot summer’s day, the tales of Fen’Harel in the Crossroads reminds her that the Keeper was wrong. They got it all wrong. 

Lavellan manages a quiet and simple response, “You’re Fen’Harel.” 

She can hardly believe the words coming out of her mouth.

“I was Solas first. ‘Fen’Harel’ came later,” shuffling his feet. “An insult I took as a badge of pride. The Dread Wolf inspired hope in my friends and fear in my enemies… not unlike ‘Inquisitor’ I suppose,” looking mournful and downhearted. “And now you know.” 

Turning away from Lavellan, he breaks eye contact. He can barely look at her. “What is the old Dalish curse? ‘May the Dread Wolf take you’?”

Lavellan also looks away and far into the distance, falling deep into thought.

She thinks back to what followed that night after their kiss on the balcony. It was never far from her mind's eye. 

His fingers running through her hair. Fanatically embracing and kissing every inch of her. As if the world was going to end the very next day. All his reservations tossed to the floor. Just like their clothes. 

Despite discovering who Fen’Harel really was in the Crossroads, she still feels used and betrayed. Was he just using her to get what he wanted?

He is the only person she has ever been with. He is the only person who understands her heart, mind and soul. 

When she was younger, before being Keeper Deshanna’s First, there had been a few flirtations amongst other Dalish elves when their paths crossed. But they were innocent and usually led to nothing.

But with Solas…

Shaking her head in disbelief she replies despondently, “And so he did.”

“I did not. I would not lay with you under false pretenses.” replies Solas looking at Lavellan for some kind of reassurance for his decision. 

But you felt withholding the truth from me was better?

Lavellan’s patience is wearing thin. She is so incredibly sick of his games and treating her like a child. She is more than capable of handling the truth. Despite how much he means to her, she values the truth above all things. 

He made this decision for her. He never gave her the opportunity to decide for herself if she wanted to take no part in his life. He stole that from her.

Still looking away from Solas, she responds angrily, “But you lied to me. I love you,” and in desperation she asks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t have understood?”

Solas drops his head like a child being scolded and quietly says, “Ir abelas, vhenan.”

“Tel’Abelas. If you care, give me the truth.” insists Lavellan. 

Turning away, Solas looks out onto the horizon. He is going to tell her everything. 

He starts walking closer to the edge of the ruins and looks down onto a forgotten, decrepit and lost elven city below. She follows him and listens intently. It feels just like the days of Skyhold. Just another one of his adventures. 

Except, it was now his story. 

Finally.

[segadoraa]

Blinded Chapter 4: The Dread Wolf Must Wait

Summary: A familiar face finds Inquisitor Ellana after she escaped from Fen'Harel's clutches.

Read the rest of the story on AO3.

She did not stop running. Not when Elvhen soldiers made to apprehend her when she emerged from the rotunda. Not when she finally found the field still littered with bodies from the battle. Not when she saw the flags of the Inquisition and tents poking out in the distance. She ran past the camp into the woods. She ran until her breath heaved in her chest and her vision darkened. She ran straight into a shallow stream, fully submerging herself in the cool flow of water. She stayed under until she could hear her pulse beating against her eardrums. Finally, she broke the surface, sucked in a breath, and screamed. A sob cut her off and she pulled herself to the edge of the stream, her body convulsing with sobs and shaking from the exertion. She curled into a ball and wept openly.

It’s over, she thought. She could not wipe the image of Solas’s face, shining with tears, from her mind. The venom of the words she said broke her and she squeezed her eyes shut, sobs still wracking her body.

She tried to calm herself. She had been cruel, but it had been her last desperate attempt to change Solas’s mind. The attempts she had made at his life and her own had been feeble—she knew he would stop her—but she could not push his face, broken and horrified, from her mind. The edges of her vision blurred and her eyes burned, but no tears came. Exhaustion wracked her body and she longed for sleep, but rest would only relieve the physical exhaustion that threatened her now. She so very tired. Tired of her mind racing, planning, calculating. Tired of the endless list of tasks that awaited her upon her return. Tired of the hopeless feeling in the pit of her stomach and the constant worry over the people she loves. She thought of tearing further into the woods and not stopping. Surely, she could find another dagger.

She felt a now familiar prickle at the back of her mind. You must press on a little while longer, child. Hope has not yet been extinguished.

The words hit her like a wall, and she slumped back to lay on the forest floor. Her tears dried in streaks along her cheeks that were matted with blood and dirt. She let herself succumb to the blackness encroaching on her vision just as she heard the sounds of soft footfalls in the distance.

***

She awoke with a start, bolting upright and straight into the top of the shallow canvas tent she was in.

“Easy there, darling. You must pace yourself. You gave us quite a scare,” a velvety voice at her left said gently.

“Dorian,” she croaked, turning to face him. He leaned back on an elbow elegantly on the opposite side of the tent.

“Here,” her offered a cannister and she accepted wordlessly. She fumbled to uncork it with her right hand.

“Oh,” Dorian said softly, “here you are.” He retrieved the canister to uncork it and returned it to her. She threw back the container and relief coursed through her and she gulped the water down.

“There’s food as well, you should eat.” He pushed a small parcel toward her. She tore open the dry goods and ate ravenously.

“Scout Harding thought she saw you race past, but we could not find you in the woods at first. When we heard you scream…” he trailed off. “What happened? We thought you had been captured, or worse.” He rested a hand on her shoulder, his face full of concern. She gazed back at him beseechingly. She did not want to relive what had happened. She didn’t want to do anything but sleep, but even that would not bring her relief as her dreams of wolves and the faces of her fallen friends raced through her mind. She took a long breath, steadying herself.

“When we had been retreating, I noticed an Elvhen warrior watching me.” She grimaced as her throat cracked and she took another long pull from the canister. “He departed when I saw him, and I made to follow him. I had not seen any Elvhen on the battlefield and I thought it was curious he did not join the fight. A few more appeared and I was overpowered and taken to a ruin.” Once she had started, the words seemed to tumble from her and she could not stop.

“I was held prisoner for a time, then he was there,” she glanced at him meaningfully, “and… he actually tried to get me to join him. He said he could protect me and would keep me safe when he tore the Veil. He had a rune, Dorian.” He cursed in Tevene.

“That was his best offer?” he said with half a smirk. “What, no flowers or chocolates?”

“Oh, I pointed out how unacceptable his offer was,” she said, pulling her knees to her chest, “and I… made him hurt for it.” His tear-stained face streaked across her vision again. Don’t call me vhenan, she had said. She squeezed her knees tightly with her right arm. “I surprised him and escaped. I should have come straight here, I know. I’m sorry. I just—”

Her throat clenched and she looked back at him, searching for words.

“Now, old girl,” he said, pulling her into his arms. “You’ve nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry. I should have been there with you. I’d let the bastard have it for what he’s done to you. Perhaps a swift kick in the arse would set him straight. Or should I go for his face? I’d love to put a dent in that arrogant prick.” Ellana tried to laugh but it came out as more of a cough. Dorian relinquished his grip on her and pulled a vial of healing potion from his belt.

“Here,” he offered. “Leliana has sent word to Dagna that you might require her services again for your arm. I’ll have someone find you some acceptable daggers until you can fashion a new bow at Skyhold. Take your time. I’ll tell the others what they need to know.” She took a deep breath as the health potion seemed to recover some of her vitality.

“Thank you,” she whispered, clutching the empty vial in her hand. Dorian regarded her a moment then made to leave. She dropped the vial and caught his arm before he turned.

“What do we do now?” she asked, her voice small. She tried and failed to recover some confidence and strength, but she felt so helpless. Anyone else would be very afraid seeing their Inquisitor like this—small, shaking, terrified—but not Dorian. His face flooded with warmth for her and he gripped both her shoulders tightly.

“We do what we have always done. Recover and press on. For now, we return to Skyhold to reassess. Perhaps Sol—” he cleared his throat. “Perhaps Fen’Harel will hesitate after your meeting, perhaps not. But we will endure and enact our plan.” He squeezed her tightly. “It will be alright,” he said softly. “Maybe not today or anytime soon, but we will make it through, eventually.” She nodded. He held her a moment longer, then disappeared through the flap in the tent.

He’s right, she thought as she laid back. The world needed its Inquisitor, now more than ever. She did not have time to wallow in self-pity. Harden your heart to a cutting edge, she thought bitterly and swore under her breath.

“What is the old Dalish curse? May the Dread Wolf take you?” he had asked.

He would not. Not yet.

[mistressdreadwolf]

Unhand Her (Solavellan Fanfic)

[I have had this idea for months now and I had finally gotten around writing it. <3 Writing has been really therapeutic for me these last couple days. I hope to keep writing more. :D Enjoy.]

[Trigger Warnings: Violence and brief mention of physical harm and intention of rape. I should have put these earlier so forgive me. :( ]

Solas and Britannia rode side by side through the dense, serene forest of the Emerald Graves on their Harts. The pair had just finished a more thorough excursion of Din'an Hanin in search of any ancient artifacts. It was a much needed trip for the couple after the stressful experience of Halamshiral.

Night was beginning to fall. The pair dismounted and decided to make camp. A scout they had come across during their journey informed them of the remaining Red Templars that were still in the area. They were apparently few in numbers but still a possible threat. "I think we should both take a watch during the night." Britannia suggested as she set down her pack on a nearby log before securing their mounts.

Solas had begun setting up the tent. He responded with a low hum of approval. "That would be wise considering there are still templars in the region." He glanced at her. "Or would you rather ride a bit further to one of the Inquisition camps?" She simply shook her head.

"It is getting darker, vhenan. We wouldn't want to leave ourselves open for an ambush. There's no telling where they are lurking." She opened her bag and pulled out some supplies. Solas nodded as he turned his attention back to the tent. "Ma nuvenin." The pair busied themselves setting up their makeshift camp.

Little did they know, there was a lone templar nearby watching them from the thick brush.

__________________________

As soon as their camp was set up and a small fire was lit, the two sat together on the fallen log after enjoying a nice meal of Rabbit that Britannia had prepared. She had her head upon Solas' shoulder as he jotted down their findings of Din'an Hanin in his journal. They were content in each other's silence.

He soon closed his journal with a soft thud. He couldn't help the small yawn that escaped his lips. Britannia let out a light laugh as she lifted her head from his shoulder to glance up at him. "Tired already, vhenan? That eager to enter the Fade?" She teased. Solas chuckled softly and leaned in to place a light kiss upon her forehead.

"I woke up very early to prepare for the expedition. If you rather sleep, I can take the first watch?" He offered. Britannia gave him a small smile. "I can take the first watch, vhenan. You go and get some rest. I slept in a bit longer than you. I'll wake you when it is your turn." She leaned up slightly to peck his lips.

Solas returned the small kiss before rising to his feet. "Alright. Goodnight, vhenan. I know you can handle yourself just fine, but do be careful. You know how unpredictable the templars can be." He knew she was a very talented mage but he was very wary about the threat of templars. Britannia lifted her staff and settled it down next to her. "I'll be fine, ma lath. Don't worry."

With that, Solas headed to the tent. As he settled into his bedroll, he couldn't help the feeling of dread that creeped into his mind. He closed his eyes. He tried to sleep lightly, but the mage didn't know just how truly exhausted he was.

__________________________

A couple hours had passed since Solas turned in. Britannia softly hummed a Dalish melody as she added a bit more wood to the fire. Her tune was interrupted by a distant whistling sound. She stopped stoking the fire to glance around her surroundings. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

She shrugged her shoulders and turned her attention back to tending the fire when she heard the sound yet again. She grabbed her staff. She glanced in the direction of the tent, internally debating whether she should wake Solas. The whistle broke her from her pondering. She decided to investigate the source of the sound herself.

She made her way towards the sound. She treaded lightly through the grove of trees. She cautiously observed her surroundings with each step she took, keeping her staff firm within her grasp. Something wasn't right. Perhaps she should turn back and wake Solas. When she turned, she bumped into cold metal.

A feeling of fear formed in the pit of her stomach as she hesitated to look up. She stood face to face with a Red Templar Knight. The templar sneered. "Hello, Inquisitor." His voice was gruff and filled with malice. She swallowed heavily and remained silent. A dark laugh left his marred lips. "Look boys...It's the mighty Inquisitor. The blessed Herald." He mocked.

Two other templars emerged from the darkness. The faint light of the full moon reflecting off their armor. "Didn't know luring her would be this easy." The other templar added. The knight simply laughed. "Well she is a knife-ear savage." She narrowed her eyes before casting a well aimed Stonefist at them, knocking them off their feet.

"You bitch!" The third templar cursed as he lunged at her. She dodged him effortlessly before striking him with a quick bolt of lightning. One of the fallen templars charged at her and knocked her back with his shield. Before she had time to recover, the knight struck her with a Holy Smite. She cried out as she fell to her knees. She felt so weak and powerless, but she knew she had to resist.

She gritted her teeth as she tried to stand. Her legs trembled. She lifted her staff to attempt one more spell. She managed to cast a ball of fire towards the knight. The flame singed his already deformed features. It was a small victory. The knight growled before smiting her once more.

The elf's knees buckled. She collapsed to the ground. She felt completely depleted of all her mana. She knew she had lost. The knight approached her and knelt down to look at her. "All heroes fall." He hissed before she felt her consciousness slip away.

_______________________

When she awakened, she was in an unfamiliar place. Everything seemed hazy and unfocused. Britannia attempted to move but her wrists and feet had been bound to a chair. A deep laugh filled the silence. "Well well well...Look who's awake." She blinked her eyes a few times in an attempt to focus. "Not so mighty now are we, Herald?" Another cold laugh.

"How pathetic." One of the men hissed before she was struck hard across her face. All three of the voices laughed in unison at her expense. Through her haze, she could make out the figures of three templars. "You won't get away with this..." She hissed at them.

The knight placed a hand underneath her chin to make her look at him. His maimed face came into focus. "Looks like we already have, pet. The master will be pleased." He grinned as he glanced back at his comrades. "I think we should have some fun before we hand her over. Samson only asked she be brought back alive...He never said in what condition." She felt like a Halla trapped in a den of mad wolves.

____________________________

Solas' eyes snapped open and he sat up in his bedroll. He could barely sense the power of the mark as he slept. He couldn't sense his vhenan. He scurried out of the tent and frantically searched for any sign of Britannia. The fire was nothing but faint glowing embers. She had been gone for sometime. He reached out with his mana to find hers. It was very weak. The feeling of dread filled him once more. Templars.

He grabbed his staff and retrieved his Hart, mounting him. He knew his heart was in grave danger. He needed to find her. He tapped his Hart's side with his foot and whipped the reins. "Ya!" He shouted as the Hart galloped from the campsite in the direction he could sense the mark.

He rode swiftly through the forest in search of her. He finally came across one of the old abandoned villas that were scattered throughout the Emerald Graves. He sensed the faint signature within the abandoned home. A templar shadow guarded the entrance. He knew he had to defeat it in order to get inside.

He dismounted and reached into his saddlebag, retrieving the Ring of Doubt. He slipped on the ring becoming invisible to the danger around him. He crept up on the Shadow, preparing his staff for attack. In a swift, graceful motion...Solas plunged his staff blade into the Shadow's throat.

The blood spattered onto his face and tunic as he watched the body crumple lifelessly to the ground. His icy gaze fell onto the door. "I'm coming, vhenan." He murmured to himself as he entered the villa.

_____________________________

It seemed like hours that the templars tormented her. They beat her, mocked her, and demeaned her....she refused to break. The knight circled her chair with a predatory gaze on his face. "You know...You're quite pretty for a knife-ear." He stopped in front of her, caressing her swollen and bruised cheek before leaning down to whisper. "Let's have a little fun. What do you say, Herald?" The way he purred her title caused her to shudder in disgust.

She spat into his face. "May the Dread Wolf take you." She hissed at the knight. He recoiled from her and wiped his face before grabbing her around her throat. "Your gods are useless here, rabbit." He tightened his grip and cackled. "Where's your wolf now?" The other templars joined in with his laughter.

"Remove your hands from her or I will remove them for you." Another voice growled. All of the templars grew silent and glanced towards the door. Solas stood in the doorframe with a look of rage. Britannia felt an overwhelming sense of relief and joy at the sight of him. "Solas..." She uttered breathlessly.

The knight scoffed at him. "Ah. You must be her knife-ear lover. Well you can watch as we take her right in front of you." He cackled once more before grabbing a fistful of her hair. She cried out in pain. "Get him, boys." He commanded.

Both templars charged at him. Solas stood in the doorway calmly as they came closer to him. With a smug huff, he fade-stepped behind them. He knocked one back with a Stonefist before trapping him within a Static Cage. The templar fell lifelessly to the floor.

The other templar lunged at him and swung his blade at the apostate. Solas dodged the attack before countering with veilstrike, stunning him briefly. He smirked and with a snap of his fingers...he encased the templar in ice before shattering him into pieces.

"Stay back!" The knight shouted as he stood behind Britannia with a dagger blade to her throat. "You come any closer and I'll kill her." He pressed the blade against her throat, drawing a bit of blood. Solas narrowed his eyes at him. In a blink of an eye, he fade-stepped behind the knight and wrapped an arm around his neck, jerking him backwards away from Britannia.

The dagger clattered to the floor. The knight struggled against the apostate's hold. Solas leaned in to whisper in his ear. "I told you not to touch her." He then snapped the knight's neck and practically threw him to the floor.

Solas stepped over the knight's body and retrieved the dagger. He cut the bindings on her wrists before moving in front of her. He knelt down to cut the bindings around her ankles. Britannia fell from the chair and wrapped her arms around Solas' neck.

"Vhenan.." She sobbed into the crook of his neck, clinging to him tightly. Solas wrapped his arms around her and held her against him, stroking her hair. "Shhh, vhenan...I'm here. You're alright." He stood and lifted her into his arms, cradling her slender form against his chest. "Let's go home."

[lavellander]

meanwhile, in the trespasser dlc, he just TELLS you shit !!! probably bc he's so fuckin exhausted by having to bend over backwards to cover his ass without lying lol

*once again this is from a transcription of all the dialogue branches by u/karinini on reddit*

after "I suspect you have questions," no matter what dialogue is chosen he'll just be like "yeah. I'm Fen'Harel<3"

"You're the Dread Wolf" option -> "Well done."

"I came to find you" option -> "I know. They sought an agent of Fen'Harel" -> "I am no one's agent but my own."

"You work for Fen'Harel?" option -> [dialogue about qunari] -> "I am no one's agent but my own."

"How did you do that?" option -> "In the same way as when I stopped it from killing you at Haven... although I am stronger now. The mark you bear was bestowed upon you by the Orb of Fen'Harel. My orb."

"Not really, no" option -> "Well then. Briefly, I am the Dread Wolf." (LMAO SLKFJSJD)

next round of different dialogue options, if you pick the sad option or the angry one he'll be like "ok well. I didn't TECHNICALLY....fully lie to you......"

"What is the old Dalish curse? 'May the Dread Wolf take you?'" -> "And so he did." -> "I did not. I would not lay with you under false pretenses."

"Ma harel lasa!" (you lied to me!) -> "Only by omission." -> "Ma lasa banal'ghilana!" (you misled me!) -> "What would you have had me say? That I was the great adversary in your people's mythology?"

if the inquisitor asks a question he knows he shouldn't answer, he doesn't even bother trying to finesse a vague response

Inquisitor: Why does this world have to die for the elves to return? Solas: A good question, but not one I will answer. You have always shown a thoughtfulness I respected. It would be too easy to tell you too much.

and when they ask a question to which he knows they won't like the answer, and one that admits he was incorrect about something, he tells the truth anyway

Inquisitor: We aren't even people to you? Solas: Not at first. You showed me that I was wrong...again.

another classic "yall ASSUMED something i didnt actually say so jot that down" moment for the road

Inquisitor: The Qunari said that the Inquisition was unknowingly working for agents of Fen'Harel. Solas: I gave no orders. Inquisitor: You led us to Skyhold. Solas: Corypheus should've died unlocking my orb. When he survived, my plans were thrown into chaos. When you survived, I saw the Inquisition as the best hope this world had in stopping him. And you needed a home. Hence, Skyhold.

all of this to say......................................... i am now even more fucked up by his final words to the inquisitor, no matter what they are

(I won't give up on you) "Solas, var lath vir suledin!" -> "I wish it could, vhenan. My love... I will never forget you."

(I'm going to redeem you) "You don't have to destroy this world. I'll prove it to you." -> "I will treasure the chance to be wrong again, my friend. Take my hand; I'm sorry."

(I can't let you do this) "If I live, I'm coming to stop you." -> "I know. Take my hand; I'm sorry."

like?????????? bitch????

hello im feeling extra “touch the stove”-y today so. i was looking for any dialogue where solas just straight up lies and (of what i could find online/transcribed, obv) i didnt find anything that was 100% untrue. he’ll completely avoid the question, change the subject, give part of the truth, etc etc etc, but nothing was just Entirely A Lie

what really gets me is that there’s a handful of convos where someone infers something from what solas says, and he will even point out that he didn’t directly say that. like, he tells people how to see through his shit, lmao

here is an embarrassingly long ass list of examples, all sorted by what kind of not-lying he’s doing lol, just bc i am unhinged<3

Keep reading

[patheticnugbaby]

Trespasses

Guess what I’ve done!

God, this hurt so much to write, I want you all to know that. Watching all the different ways the trespasser scene can play out was fucking painful. Writing it was also horribly painful.

WARNING: Angst, blood, pain, and suffering.

Enjoy your suffering.

Adahla backed out of the eluvian. The scent of blood and death and the pungent smell of lyrium clung to her like a shroud. She turned away from the towering silver glass, only to find a massive qunari warrior looming over her. She gasped and lunged away, dropping into a crouch, flicking her last throwing knives into her hands before she realized that it was just stone. Petrified mid-swing. She turned, finding the field littered with similar statues. Massive warriors looming over her like mountains, frozen like they were lunging for whoever had walked between them, as she was.

She swallowed the jittery fear that rose like bile in her throat. She knew who walked these steps.

“Ebasit kata. Itwa-ost.” Something sharp and jagged rose in her chest at the sound of that voice, like the last two years had only lasted a breath.

She ran towards the sound, nearly tripping over a stray stone in her rush towards the steps. Near the top, she saw the crest of the vidasala’s horns.

“Maras kata!” The vidasala’s voice was angry, guttural.

Adahla sprinted up the stairs, sheathing the knife in her left hand as she felt the steady rise of painful power mounting in her palm. She grit her teeth against it, clenching her fist.

“Your forces have failed.” Her lungs felt like they’d been scrubbed out with sandpaper. Whatever happened after she stopped the vidasala could wait, “Leave now and tell the qunari to trouble me no further.”

She crested the stairs just in time to see him turn away. The vidasala growled and lunged to throw a spear, Adahla flicked a dagger at the qunari’s wrist and then-

The dagger pinged off of the stone, the vidasala suspended in rock before the spear even left her hands. Adahla swallowed, managing to stand straight as she walked past the vidasala. She quashed the fear that tried to choke her as she stalked after him, his back still turned, walking away from her though she knew he heard her coming.

“Solas.” Her voice was steady, sharp like frosted glass.

He stopped, finally. He dipped his head, ears flicking slightly as he half-turned to look at her. Unbidden, the anchor flared, hissing angrily as green light arced from under her armor. Adahla clutched her left hand, sucking in a sharp breath through her clenched teeth. She felt the jagged tears in her skin reopening, blood slicking her arm and hand under the armor. Somehow, over the growing hum of the anchor, she heard blood dripping onto the stone from the fingertips of her gauntlet. Her knees gave out and she spat a curse, glaring at him as he walked up to her, smooth, steady, powerful. His eyes gleamed lyrium blue, just for a moment. There was a cold sting, accompanied by the smell of ozone and the pain faded to the dull throb she’d become accustomed to. She stood, straightening her spine and drawing her shoulders back. Calm, confident like the ice over a lake.

“That should give us more time.” He smiled at her, tilting his head the way he always did, “Your hair-” he stopped, shifting his shoulders a little, “I suspect you have questions.”

Adahla blinked once, twice, before knife-sharp laughter bubbled out of her throat, her voice hoarse from the screaming she’d done, “That’s what you have to say to me? You disappear without a word after our battle with Corypheus, despite a promise to talk to me ‘when this is all over’ and now- now you ‘suspect I have questions’?” Her voice had climbed almost into a hoarse shriek as she stomped up to him, immensely pleased when he stepped back, “Fenedhis, Solas!”

He bowed his head, letting out a long, shuddering breath, “What would you have me say?”

She let out a disgusted grunt and turned away, throwing her hands angrily in the air, “I don’t know! I don’t know if there’s anything you could say that could make all of this any better.” She snapped, turning back to him before scrubbing her right hand over her face with a deep sigh. “You’re right, I do have questions. We could sit here for a hundred years and not answer all of them. Do I have enough time for a few?”

“We have some time, Adahla,” He replied, she squeezed her eyes shut, the use of her name cut like a knife.

“Well let’s not waste it,” She turned away from him, her hands on her hips before she ran a hand through her short-cropped hair with a jagged sigh, “I found some things, travelling the eluvians,” Adahla had to swallow the steady rise of fear in her stomach, “You-” she had to stop again, “You’re Fen’Harel. Dread Wolf.”

“Well done.” His voice was soft, she heard the warmth of a smile in his voice, “I expected nothing less of you.”

“Don’t! You-” She whipped back around to him, pointing an accusing finger under his pointed chin, “Don’t you dare congratulate me. Racing through mirror after mirror picking up the breadcrumbs you left, each one telling me I was wrong. The gods I honored, believed in, nothing more than glorified slavers! My life, my faith was false, every piece of it an ignorant lie!” She choked out an anguished sob, gasping like she couldn’t get enough air.

He reached for her, then drew back at her venomous glare, ears pinned tightly to his skull, “I apologize. You are right,” he met her eyes, just for a second, “I was Solas first, for what that’s worth.”

“Very little,” She snapped, then she sighed, tilting her head back to look at the clear, blue sky, “What do you mean ‘you were Solas first’?”

“Fen’Harel came later, an insult I took as a badge of pride,” She heard the hints of a rueful smile and refused to look at him, looking instead over his shoulder at the towering eluvian, “The Dread Wolf inspired hope in my friends and fear in my enemies. Not unlike ‘Inquisitor’, I suppose,” He stopped, averting his eyes as his ears flicked wildly, “And now you know. What is the old Dalish curse? ‘May the Dread Wolf take you’?”

Something hard and cold in her heart cracked. Finally, she felt the sting of hot, angry tears in her eyes, the hard ball of iron lumping in her throat. She met his eyes now, full of righteous fury and pain.

“Ma harel lasa!” She snarled, almost like a wild animal.

“Only by omission.” His ears flicked, eyes creasing with sorrow, pain.

“Ma lasa banal’ghilana!” She stepped up to him, hands flicking to the empty dagger sheaths on her hips as he stepped back from her.

“What would you have had me say?” He demanded, a trembling in his tone as his ears flicked back against his head, “That I was the great adversary in your people’s mythology?”

“I would have had you trust me like I trusted you!” Her voice broke, she felt herself shaking, every muscle in her body trembled and the great, aching pain in her chest burned like she had never buried it. “I trusted, I loved you enough to let you change me and you let me!”

He looked away like he couldn’t stand the sharpness of her pain, her rage, “Ir abelas, vhenan.”

“Tel’abelas!” She spat, ripping the gauntlet off of her left hand, thrusting it under his eyes, “You did this to me! I lost everything because of your mistakes!” she took her hand back, flicking blood on the stone, flecks landing on his pristine golden armor, “If you care if you ever cared then tell me the truth.”

“I could never bring myself to lie about how I felt about you, Adahla,” He was quiet, something dragged at his words like needles before he shook his head a little, turning away from her, “I sought to free my people from slavery to would-be gods,” she followed him, something warm, familiar, and gentle washing over her as she recognized the voice he used to tell her stories. Butterflies in her chest. “I broke the chains of all who wished to join me. The false gods called me Fen’Harel, and when they finally went too far, I formed the veil and banished them forever.” He stopped, looking out over the sabotaged fortress that crumbled beneath them, “And, in so doing, destroyed their world.”

Adahla was silent for a time, staring blankly at the maze of a wrecked fortress, wildflowers, and trees sprawling over its corpse. She felt a steady fracture growing in her chest, spiraling out from her heart. The iron in her throat hadn’t gone away, if anything, it only felt sharper. She tried not to sniffle and failed, tilting her head back to the sky as though it could stop the hot rolling of tears down her blood smeared face.

“False gods,” She choked, touching the eye where her vallaslin had once been, “Explains a lot about your attitude about my people. Cre-” She stopped short with a ragged breath, “I am such a fool.”

“You are many things, Adahla, but you have never been a fool,” He assured her softly, “The remnants of culture the dalish cling to are not their fault. All that was lost is my responsibility.”

“Yes, I forgot,” She hissed, turning to glare at him, “We’re a mistake. A mistake built on your mistakes, Fen’Harel.”

The use of that name stung him, she knew in the way his ears flicked, a subtle gleam in his eyes, she dimly heard the sound of tightening leather as he clenched his hands behind his back. She took a breath, it was a heavy, shuddering sound that caught in her throat. His ears flicked, fingers twitching like they did when he was keeping himself from something. She felt the fracturing in her chest begin anew, a raw kind of pain that scraped in her lung as she took another long, deep breath. It sounded like her throat was coated in needles, her lungs felt like they were lined with barbs but it mended the fractures, just a little.

“What are you going to do now?” She managed to ask, she knew he wouldn’t tell her everything but a shred had to be better than nothing.

It had to.

“My people fell for what I did to strike the Evanuris down, but still some hope remains for restoration.” He had started to walk away, towards the enormous, gleaming eluvian, then he stopped, the tiniest shift in his posture. Resolve. “I will save the elven people, even if it means this world must die.”

“You would- you would destroy this world?” She couldn’t keep the raw shock from her voice, couldn’t keep it from climbing several notes higher.

“Not happily-”

“No. No.” She snarled, gripping him by the shoulder with her bloody hand, yanking him to face her, “You do not get to do that to me, not on top of everything else you’ve done! Not after everything I sacrificed to keep this fucking world breathing, limping along. I lost everything cleaning up your mess! My home, my freedom, my clan-” Her voice cracked with a dry, broken sob before she whispered: “and you had the gall to let me love you.”

“I am sorry, vhenan,” His voice nearly trembled as he bowed his head, suddenly unable to meet her eyes.

Her chest tightened as she choked on the air, her lungs burned like she couldn’t get enough breath. She took her hand off of him, leaving a bloody handprint on the wolf’s pelt over his shoulder. She turned from him, pacing wildly, three steps at a time. She was breathing too hard, she knew. Her breath dragged at her throat, little-hooked claws.

“What was supposed to happen, Solas?”

“Corypheus was supposed to die unlocking my orb, then I would’ve entered the fade with the mark you now bear and torn down the veil.” He paused, bowing his head just a touch, “As this world burned in the raw chaos, I would have restored the world of my time... The world of the elves.”

“I-” Adahla choked on the words, taking another breath, if only to keep herself together, “I never thought of you as someone who could do that, Solas.”

He looked away from her, to the ground, like he was ashamed, “Thank you.”

She couldn’t help but laugh bitterly, the sound rang like daggers on stone, “Don’t thank me, Solas, because I was obviously wrong!” she gestured wildly with her hands before turning an accusing glare back to him, “Clearly, you are someone who could murder thousands, hundreds of thousands of people because their world is somehow less worthy than yours! Because my world is less worthy than yours!” She snarled, rising almost to her toes, her face within an inch of his own, “How dare you judge us as unworthy for what we built on your mistakes!”

“You must understand,” His voice finally shook, only with sadness, and pain, “I awoke in a world where the veil had blocked most people’s conscious connection to the fade. It was like walking through a world of tranquil.”

Adahla didn’t expect the sudden stabbing pain in her heart, so sharp it made fresh tears roll down her cheeks as she bit back another sob, “We aren’t even people to you? I’m not even a person to you?”

“Not- not at first,” He sighed, carefully meeting her eyes again, “I was wrong. You showed me that I was wrong. Again. I-” his voice cracked, just a tiny bit as he reached for her, then he straightened, hands behind his back again, “That does not make what must come next any easier.”

“Did you ever care about us?” She asked brokenly, sudden exhaustion making her eyes and her bones ache, “Or were we just a means to an end?”

“In the beginning, no, I didn’t,” He admitted, like the confession hurt to voice, “but you are people and you deserved better. Like all the rest I have used in one hopeless battle after another.”

“Why bother, then?” She asked, soft and forlorn, like she already knew the answer, “Why try over and over again, even when the pride is paid in blood that was never yours to spend?”

“I asked you something similar, once. Do you remember?”

She nodded sharply, “All we can do is try again. We have to try and hope the next time will be better,” she chuckled, a cold, jagged sound, “Had I known you’d use that as reason enough to tear my world apart I’d have rephrased, ma’arlath.” She froze as soon as she said it, pretending to ignore the sound of him taking a sharp, shuddering breath.

She felt the iron harden in her throat as she turned away, hands solid on her hips as she let out a sharp sigh. A too-familiar warmth in the tips of her long ears. The softest trembling of butterfly wings beating against her heart. She swallowed, hard as she took her hands from her hips, flexing her fingers. She made a little disgusted noise at the tugging of tacky, sticky blood on her left hand.

“The anchor,” She said, surprised she’d forgotten about it for this long, “It’s getting worse.”

“I know, vhenan,” A gentle hand on her shoulder, she stiffened, pretending the familiar feeling didn’t send a new tear falling from her eyes, “and we are running out of time.”

It was like a switch had been turned in her hand. Angry green light spluttered into being, it cracked from every tear in her flesh like a foul lightning. She clenched her teeth to bite back a cry of pain. The mark cracked like thunder and her knees buckled. She fell back against him with an agonized scream, he caught her gently, lowering her to her knees as he came to crouch in front of her. His eyes were level with hers, she didn’t meet them.

“The mark will eventually kill you,” He said, his voice heavy with regret, “Drawing you here gave me the chance to save you, at least for now.”

“Solas,” She managed to choke past the pain, “This is- I’m going to die and it’s your fault! You stupid, foolish-” Her voice broke with a sob and met his eyes, looking at him, really looking at him for the first time since she stepped through the eluvian.

His cheeks were fuller like he’d been eating better. The armor suited him too well, and yet it didn’t. He was better in just the sweater and leggings he’d always worn before. His eyes were still stormy but they seemed clearer now, glistening wetly with what she could think were unshed tears. The clear line of his jaw was sharp as ever, expressive brows tugging on the little scar on his forehead. He said he got it falling out of a tree as a child.

Adahla felt something in her heart shatter. All the butterflies, wings edged in razor blades swarmed her with the bitter-sweet memories she buried for the last long, two years. The sound of warm laughter in the sunshine, his long, slender fingers as they tangled in her hair; the scent of the snow when it crunched under their feet, how it felt as they danced together, wild and unbound in the moonlight.

“Var lath vir suledin!” Her voice trembled, ached as she said it with another ragged sob.

“I wish it could, vhenan,” He bowed his head, his voice trembled, like he was desperately holding back; Adahla cried out as the anchor seared its way past her shoulder, “My love.”

He leaned down to her, tucking a few strands of hair behind her ear. Adahla closed her eyes against the hot tears that rolled down her bloodstained cheeks. She felt him take her anchor hand in his own as he kissed her. It was a wet, salty kiss, but perhaps the most honest one they’d ever shared, full of pain and desperation and broken love. Too soon, he pulled away from her, standing with the slightest suggestion of tear tracks on his cheeks.

“I will never forget you.” His voice was quiet and laced with pain, regret.

Nevertheless, he turned, hands laced behind his back as he marched through the eluvian that towered over them. It shimmered a brilliant blue, then silver again.

And he was gone.