#solavellanfic

[kcwriter-blog]

And Yet

The nights are the hardest. During the day there are reports to read, dispatches to send, agents to meet and plans to make. At night there is only him. His thoughts. His remorse. His guilt.

Guilt for what happened in the past. Guilt for what he intends to do. Guilt for what he did to her.

He laces his fingers together, leans forward and rests his head on his knuckles. So many memories. So many regrets. He never should have let it get that far.

And yet.

That first tentative kiss. A bold move on her part. A silent question. Did he feel for her what she felt for him?

He knew how she felt. Had known for some time. Had pushed aside his own feelings. It wasn't right. Any first kiss would end in a last. He knew that, even if she did not.

And yet.

It had been so long since anyone had looked at him that way. So long since anyone had touched him. He resisted. Then he did what he has always done. He gave into his impulses - and doomed them both.

And yet.

He lifts his head, unlaces his fingers and rubs his eyes. He is so tired. The Fade calls. There are places he can go. Places that will remind him of what was lost. Places that will bolster his resolve.

And yet.

Rising from his desk, he walks over to a cot in a corner of the room. They don't understand why he won't take more opulent quarters. He doesn't need them. He doesn't deserve them.

Reclining, he closes his eyes and opens himself to the Fade. Quickly, the door opens. He steps through and finds what he always finds. He is not where he planned to be.

And yet.

There is a gravel path leading to a manicured garden. She will be there. In her dreams she is always there.

At first there were nightmares. It was only to be expected. She had been through so much. Lost so much.

It was his fault. How could it not be? He had set it all in motion. He took everything from her. Her clan, her gods, her vallaslin, her heart and, ultimately, herself.

And yet.

He chased away the nightmares. It was the least he could do.

No, that was a lie. One of many he told himself. The lie that they could be together. The lie that he could set it all aside. The lie that he could be happy. He chased away the nightmares because he loved her. Would always love her.

And yet.

The nightmares lessened over time, replaced by gentler dreams. He does not need to watch over her but he cannot stay away. Now he watches to see if she is happy. To see if her dreams include someone else. Someone who can take away her pain.

And yet.

He pads softly up the path. He always comes as a wolf. He knows she isn't fooled but he cannot bear to hurt her any more than he already has.

And yet.

At the garden entrance he hears laughter. Two young elves race across the lawn. She is standing beneath an arch decorated with flowers. He focuses, as he always does, on her missing arm. One more thing he has taken from her.

Her back is to him. An elf is holding her, hugging her, kissing her. Jealousy wars with relief. She has someone. Someone who makes her happy.

And yet.

She steps out of the embrace. He can see the elf's face. His heart stops. It is his face. He looks at the children. His cheekbones. His freckles. An auburn-haired girl. A boy with grey eyes.

He slinks backwards. It isn't a dream about what she has. It is a dream about what she wants.

She turns, catching sight of him as she has done so many times before. They never speak. Have not spoken since that final kiss.

And yet.

"I see you, Fen' Harel." Her voice is soft, sad and heartbreakingly beautiful.

He flinches. It feels wrong, that hated name falling from her lips. His ears droop. He looks into her eyes. Looks for the anger that should be there. Was there so many years ago. All he sees now is love coupled with pain.

She does not step forward. She knows he will turn away, as he has so many times before.

And yet.

"It is time we speak," she says in a tone that brooks no argument.

He has no choice. His wolf form falls away. He stands before her in the clothes he wore when they first met.

"Years ago you made a decision for me," she says as she looks into his eyes. His soul. "A decision you had no right to make. You speak of free will, yet you negated mine."

There is no heat behind her words. No accusation. In her mind, it is a fact.

"I did not." He gazes at her, silently pleading with her to stop.

"I would have gone with you. I wanted to be by your side," she continues as if she did not hear him. Her voice is not as gentle as before. Anger wars with grief. "You said, no."

"I could not let that happen," he replies, his voice husky. "I cannot let you see what I will become. I could not risk you becoming the same."

The softness in her expression is replaced by steel. Her will was always strong. It was what carried her through the unspeakable horrors he had unwittingly unleashed.

"That was my choice to make, not yours!" Now, he hears the anger.

What can he say? That love gave him the right to choose for her? He knows in his heart it did not.

"Now you are making another decision. One that will harm tens of thousands." She takes a step forward. "Only a would-be god could be so arrogant."

"I am not a god," he whispers. He takes a step back. His own anger kindles in response to hers. How can she think that? Why can't she understand?

"You think not?" Her eyes challenge him. She challenges him in ways no one ever has before. "Only a god could be so callous."

Her words are like daggers. He cannot look at her.

"I have no choice," he answers, his voice rising but still barely more than a whisper.

"There are always choices, Solas," she says. Her voice is weary. The anger spent. "You may not like them but they are there."

She turns her head in the direction of her dream children, of his dream self. Turns her head in the direction of what could have been.

"Var lath vir suledin, vhenan," she says. "Remember?"

His answer sticks in his throat.

She turns back to him.

"Your choice is simple, vhenan. You can be Fen'Harel and destroy the world, or you can be Solas and find a better way."

He searches her face, expecting to see hope. There is none. She knows him too well.

And yet.

She has not given up on him.

Without another word, she turns and walks back to the other Solas waiting patiently under the arch.

It hurts. It always does. She cannot be happy unless he is by her side. Unless he is where he wants to be.

He awakens. He has a choice to make.

And yet.