Chapter Text
After glaring at Adahl and Alas who desperately tries to scramble back on their feet, Solas decides to start from the main courtyard.
It’s the one he and Scarlet are actually standing in right now: around them, the old, cracked, dusty ruins of the place Solas chose as his base stand in all their forgotten elven glory, offering shade to the rich grass under their feet and tiny nooks to the colorful flowers that grow everywhere.
There is a well too, as old as the base, and even from afar Scarlet can see ancient carvings on it and recognize the faint gilding of the upper bar as gold. There are also some pieces of golden mosaic left on its surface just like on the walls she saw last night, as they went to say goodbye to Enasalin for the last time.
The flowers are actually what makes the courtyard so beautiful, because not only their colours are so varied, but they are also rare and it’s a wonder to see so many specimens here, growing all together in harmony.
The trees too are wonderful: tall and large, but not imposing, they offer even more fresh shade than the walls and many agents are relaxing, writing, or training under their comforting foliage.
A faint path of golden and green tiles can be glimpsed under the dust and leaves: Scarlet recognizes some symbols encountered in other elven ruins she visited as Inquisitor; others are simply known to her because her Keeper taught them to her and all her clan.
But there are others that she doesn’t know and never saw before, so she spends a long time trying to decipher them while Solas decides how to better show her the courtyard.
“There are some interesting murals over there.” he mumbles and his voice sounds timid. That makes her raise her head and look at him in surprise.
He is timid. His face is all red and he looks antsy and anxious, like a young boy on his first date with his beloved maiden. But they have been together for years, now, and they had their fair share of dates, so what is he afraid of?
‘Does he fear I might get bored?’ she wonders, then she understands.
This time they are having a date in his place. He is showing her something that he made, something that he worked hard to organize and assemble: it’s his organization, it’s his small army, this is the base he chose and decided to renovate, these are the people he personally chose to work for him.
He hopes she will be proud of what he accomplished, even though at first the reason he did all this was to tear down the Veil in a destructive manner. He felt like he didn’t really have a choice back then, though, and many of the agents he has here are willing and happy to see the other races survive too, so she can’t be mad at him for that.
“There are more rooms that need to be cleaned and refurnished.” he continues, grimacing. “And… the kitchens are not much large, but the cooks assured me they are good enough. Also, lean on me, there are patches of moss on some parts of the ground and I do not want you to slip on them.”
He sighs, fearing his words and the wild exterior of the base made a terrible impression on her.
“Solas…” she starts, biting her lips not to laugh, but then he lightens up and smiles at her, exclaiming: “The library! I almost forgot. Come, vhenan, this is the briefest way.”
“Abelas is waiting in the library, my lord.” Adahl informs him, acting as he never eavesdropped on them and was caught doing so. “The agents who just came back from Tevinter are there too.”
Solas curses under his breath and coldly replies: “Then they will wait. I have no intention of seeing Abelas now.”
He tries to smile again and pats Scarlet’s hand, a reassuring gesture. “We might start from the kitchens, then, and grab something to eat.”
She is about to accept, but then she thinks about the argument that Solas and Abelas had and her promise to the Sentinel to come out soon to talk with him. If she and Solas makes him wait more, without showing any kind of interest and respect for what he and the agents have to say, he will get even angrier.
He already can’t stand her much. If she really proved to be the nuisance he thinks her to be, then there would be no hope to actually talk to him and establish a sort of friendly relationship with him.
She doesn’t want to cause problems to Solas. She doesn’t want him to lose the respect of his agents because of her. They need to convince as many people as possible that the Veil must not be destroyed carelessly, but that there might actually be a better way…
Although Abelas considers that way and its consequences even worse. She must show him that not everything might be lost, even if they will cause the Evanuris to get free. And to do that, she has to win his respect and trust.
“No. Let’s go to the library.” She smiles at Solas and gently interrupts him before he can complain: “We will have all the time to explore the base later. For now focus on your agents and hear what they have to tell you.”
He looks flabbergasted. Outraged. Nearly offended by the mere idea.
“Vhenan…!”
She giggles and kisses his nose, as his utter surprise and confusion just increase.
“Don’t worry, I won’t listen to your conversation!” She shoots an amused look at Adahl and Alas, who blush and look away, then she beams at Solas: “I will read some books. Far from you and the others, so Abelas won’t think I’m spying on you. Do you have anything on sewing or food?”
Solas babbles something, then glares at her, but it’s more like a glare directed at Abelas and his bad manners and paranoia.
“You shouldn’t do this. He shouldn’t do this. You are here now and I have no intention of wasting any more time. Abelas and those agents can wait. They will wait, in fact.”
“No, they won’t.” Scarlet uses her Inquisitor voice now and it has a clear effect on Solas. He blinks and stares at her, more dumbfounded than before, as she continues with a small frown on her face:
“We will go to them, vhenan, and you will hear their report and do whatever you do in these situations. I will wait for you and then we will continue our walk.”
She tugs at his sleeve and nods at a general, vague direction, smiling again and concluding: “Now, let’s go! I really need to read some new books.”
He looks about to whine and complain, but her pointed look and lopsided smile tell him to stop it and he can only grunt, scowl, and pout as they head towards a smaller building decorated with typical elven windows and carvings.
He glares at the path in front of them for the whole time, without pronouncing a single word, but his grasp on her hand is gentle and he carefully guides her far from the patches of moss and broken tiles.
He is still scowling hard when they enter the library and his mood only gets worse as he sees Abelas and a handful of agents standing near one of the large tables of the room.
The library is magnificent, despite its disarrayed look: there are long tables offering all the space necessary to sit, read, and study in peace and the shelves are as high and large as the ones Scarlet saw in the Vir Dirthara. They touch the ceiling, so sturdy ladders have been provided to reach the books.
Even here, there are old mosaics on the walls, telling ancient stories and showing long-forgotten events of a past that Scarlet barely knows.
The golden tiles on the floor have been accurately cleaned and repaired and magic fire burns in tall, round bowls on the walls: she has no doubt it offers an incredible light at night.
Abelas and the agents turn and raise their heads as they hear the doors open: the Sentinel scowls as hard as Solas, while the spies gasp and whisper with each other. They didn’t know Scarlet was here and they didn’t have the chance to learn of her presence, since they have just arrived.
Apparently Abelas didn’t think about informing them sooner.
Much to Scarlet’s relief, they don’t look annoyed or scared by her presence. Like before, she sees curiosity and surprise in their eyes and in some cases even awe and respect. Most of them bow their head as she and Solas approach and the younger ones look impatient to speak to her.
“Lady Lavellan will remain here for a while.” Solas announces, ignoring completely Abelas. “I trust all of you will make her stay a pleasant experience.” As he says this, his eyes slowly move to the Sentinel, who doesn’t reply.
The agents reassure him and promise they will do so, then they address Scarlet directly, greeting her and bowing again. Part of her shyness comes back, but she holds it in check and kindly greets them back, professional and gentle like during the days of the Inquisition.
“I will go find some interesting books.” she tells Solas, but then hesitates, not knowing whether she can kiss him or not. His agents are here and he might feel embarrassed, maybe he would prefer to keep such displays of affection private. He did kiss her in front of Adahl and Alas, but…
He notices her hesitation and chases it away with a smile and a warm kiss: one or two agents giggle, only to be silenced by the others, and a corner of Abelas’ mouth twitch downwards, but Solas looks as happy as ever and Scarlet can’t help but smile too.
She quickly walks away from the table, red like a tomato and still smiling, and does her best to find the farthest bookshelf and stay there without interrupting them. The library is large and its ceiling tall, though, so Solas’ voice echoes well, especially because he has no intention of lowering it.
Despite her attempts, many words still reach her ears and hearing what they are talking about is inevitable, even if Abelas tries in every way to keep their tones low: the agents discovered more about the Qunari’s intentions.
Apparently their efforts in Tevinter are stronger than ever and things are getting dangerous for the Imperium. Should the Qunari attack now with most of their armies, the humans would have no way out.
“We must save and secure all the innocents we can.” she hears Solas say. “Slaves, children, elders, women, everyone. All of those who cannot defend themselves, those who never chose this war, those who have no means to escape and leave Tevinter on their own.”
“What about the ruins we found, sir?” an agent asks, ignoring Abelas’ request to speak in lower tones, and Solas replies: “Make sure nobody else will find them. Use magic if necessary.”
“Shouldn’t we try to dig more?” Abelas intervenes, forgetting about his own voice. “If those documents and information you needed are there, then…”
“We will interrupt our efforts for now.” Solas says, calm as ever, and a collective gasp can be heard in the library. He doesn’t even hesitate or pause before continuing: “I need some time to study what we have gathered until now, what Scarlet and the others discovered and… and to prepare everything.”
“No, I know what you need time for.” Abelas hisses, before smashing a hand on his table. Scarlet grimaces at the sound, but doesn’t move from behind the tall bookshelf and forces herself to stare at the book open in front of her with all her willpower.
It’s useless, because Abelas’ furious whisper reaches her all the same, whether she wants it or not:
“You need time to spend more blissful moments with your beloved Inquisitor, while our people struggle in this world and those who call themselves Elvhen forget and twist our lore with each passing day.”
“You still haven’t apologized to her.” Solas icily reminds him, but the Sentinel snarls.
“I did not mean to hurt her and she knows this, but her presence here is dangerous. Whatever she told you, whatever she promised you, you know it is too dangerous. You know we cannot afford to follow her plan.”
“Her plan might work. And if it is as good as she and our friends believe, then we will follow it.” A pause, then Solas concludes, sounding confident and certain: “We will deal with all the consequences like we would have dealt with the ones borne out of our original plan.”
A heavy silence follows and Scarlet realizes the agents don’t know that the Evanuris will be freed if the Veil is destroyed following her way. She can feel their confusion in the air and also Solas’ panic, because he doesn’t want them to know.
Many of them are willing to let the other races survive and share with them the joy of a restored Thedas, but if they knew the price to pay was a terrible calamity, perhaps the worst one Thedas ever knew, then Scarlet has no doubt that they would refuse to follow Solas.
Apparently Abelas has the good sense to stop talking about that in front of the agents, because he tiredly concludes: “Wait, if you must, but my Sentinels and I will keep searching for every scrap of ancient magic that we could use. When the time finally comes, we will be ready. Although I ignore how ready one can be for such a thing.”
She hears the steps of his armor on the tiles, but they are interrupted by Solas’ voice.
“This world is not as terrible as you believe, lethallin. Give it a chance.”
Abelas doesn’t reply, but his steps sound faster, angrier, as he leaves the library and loudly closes the doors behind himself.
Solas sighs, then asks the agents more questions about their mission, the things they saw and discovered in Minrathous.
Scarlet is perfectly aware of having listened to a good part of their conversation already, but even now she can’t really stop the words from coming to her and no matter how many books she opens on the table, they aren’t enough to catch her attention.
“Panic is rising in the city. The Magisterium is convinced the Qunari will strike the decisive blow soon and it drives them mad.” an agent says and Scarlet’s hand moves to her pendant. Is Dorian really alright?
“Our forces have been as discreet as possible, but words about you have spread in most corners of Thedas, my lord, and there have been… retaliations against the elves. We will try to save and defend the most we can.”
“Good.” A moment of silence, then Solas adds: “If they refuse to work with us, ask them to go to Lady Lavellan’s base then.”
Scarlet smiles and blushes at that and then she hears Solas’ steps come closer to where she is. She hurriedly looks down at all the books she opened, only to realize they are written in ancient Elvhen.
“Ma vhenan.” he calls softly, approaching her and resting a hand on her back. “Come, don’t stay here alone any longer.”
“But…” she glances at the bookshelf behind his back, because behind it there are the agents he was speaking with.
“Only Abelas would think you want to eavesdrop and spy on us.” he says with a sad, lopsided smile. Then his expression softens and he looks at her face, her eyes, her body, her right shoulder whose bandages can be seen peek out of her shirt.
She blushes and looks down, a bit self-conscious about that new outfit. It’s comfortable and light like the old one that got dirty with blood at Enasalin’s funeral, but it’s also a bit tighter and it highlights the form of her breasts and butt more.
When she raises her eyes and sees the look on Solas’ face, she wishes this room was completely empty and her shoulder well again just to push him on one of the tables and ride him until sunset.
He clearly knows what she is thinking about, because a roguish grin splits his face in half, causing Scarlet to blush even more and groan; she tries to hide her face against his pelt and he can’t hold back, bursting into a boyish laugh that echoes in the library and makes the agents jump out of their skin in surprise.
“Just you wait until I can move my arm again.” she mumbles, smiling and pouting at him at the same time, while Solas cradles her face in his hands and kisses it with a low chuckle.
“Oh, I will, my love. I will patiently await.” he promises, peppering her face with tickling pecks, and every time she tries to return them he steals more kisses or plays with her lips.
His hands move to her waist and she moves hers to rest it on the small of his back, but he stops her before she can do so.
“Do not strain yourself, vhenan.” he says, brushing one lock of hair behind her ear, and she seizes the chance to finally kiss him back. He smiles and painfully steps back to let her move, saying: “Let’s go back to my agents, now. I want you to listen to what they have to say.”
The sudden lack of contact hurts her too and the dream they shared in bed comes to mind, a bittersweet memory that makes her heart beat too fast, but soon their hands are entwined and they step back into the aisle like that, without hiding their love, and the air becomes breathable again.
Scarlet greets the agents again and they kindly inform her of the current status of Tevinter. Things don’t bode well for the Imperium and the familiar weight of the world that she has felt on her shoulders since she became Inquisitor, comes back.
She feels responsible and Abelas’ words hurt deep: this week she and Solas want to spend in a sort of blissful limbo of denial is undoubtedly selfish and even though she knows they deserve it, that they aren’t asking that much, she feels guilty and almost desires to put her armor on and go back into the matters of politics, war, espionage.
“We tried to infiltrate Magister Pavus’ house to protect him and keep an eye on him, my lady.” an elder agent says, confirming the suspicions she and Dorian always had. “But he managed to discover our people every single time.”
“Yes, I know.” she chuckles. “He often complained about the amount of spies who pretended to be slaves looking for a master. When he started having paid servants, the offers doubled.”
“But he always found out who my agents were even then.” Solas says and he gives her an amused smile. “I guess he is used to recognize such people, thanks to his Tevene education. You, on the other hand…”
She blushes and sighs, aware of how naïve she can be sometimes.
“I know, I know. I trusted all the people who entered my base way too much. Maybe I thought nobody could infiltrate us because Leliana was there most of the time.” She makes a low sound, then asks timidly: “… Who are the agents Enasalin used to talk to while he was in my base?”
“There are currently two there, my lady.” one of the elves in front of her promptly answers. “They…”
“No, wait!” She thinks hard about it, tries to remember all the reasoning she made in her room, then starts with her first suspect: “Let’s see… I always thought the old elf who brought us food was kind of suspicious…”
“Really, now?” Solas says, smirking smugly, but he doesn’t confirm nor deny it and she sticks her tongue at him, pinching his hand to retaliate. He laughs like he laughed before, in front of everyone this time, and the agents look mesmerized by that sight, as if they never saw laugh him before.
That’s probably the case, Scarlet thinks with sadness and she doesn’t even hesitate or let her shyness stop her: she presses a sweet kiss on Solas’ cheek, then quickly goes back to the main topic to stop herself from combusting.
“Will you keep an eye on Dorian from afar for me?” she asks the agents, noticing how some of them are smirking at each other or whispering. The two or three who are listening intently to her nod and promise they will try to infiltrate his house only to protect him from his enemies. They don’t have to discover what he is studying anymore now.
“He has many, doesn’t he?” she sighs. “Venatori and Qunari emissaries threaten him every day, but he has always been able to stop them before they could arrive to him.”
“His enemies increased, I fear.” the elder agent who spoke before says and she turns to him, eyes wide. He clears his throat and hurries to explain, not seeing Solas’ panicked and irate expression: “Reliable sources have told us that a large part of the Magisterium and the Altus caste are against him and his Lucerni party also because of his friendship with you and his affiliation with your non-Inquisition, my lady.”
“What?” Scarlet feels her face and back grow cold, as if blood left her body. She shakes her head, not feeling Solas’ grip on her hand. “Why? We gave them no reason to…”
“Everyone knows about you and Lord Fen’Harel, my lady.” another agent, a young woman, continues. “They… uh… don’t trust you and consequently they don’t trust Dorian Pavus and all the reforms he’s trying to make.”
Another huge weight settles upon Scarlet’s shoulders and she feels sick. Dorian never told her this, on the contrary he always reassured her that everything in Tevinter was fine, except for the Qunari looming on the horizon. Not even Leliana informed her about this.
Are her other friends having similar problems too? She hasn’t had the chance to visit them yet, she was too busy with her organization and could only exchange letters with them.
She never traveled much too far from her current base and every contact with the outside world she had never showed her what Thedas really thought about her relationship with Solas and her work.
She did try, however, to change the opinion of the world about him: her agents have the order to spread no disinformation and ill things about Fen’Harel, but only report the truth and the true objective of their organization, that is change his mind, not kill him.
But she knows how hard it is to change people’s mind and even some members of her clan are perplexed and worried by her behavior and choices, so she knows she shouldn’t really be surprised.
It seems that once again nobody believes Solas to be a good man, not even when there are individuals finally defending him and his reputation. This fact, together with the thought of their friends suffering because of this, hurts her immensely and she wonders how the world can be so blind, so cruel, so stubborn.
She turns to look at him and sees his pained expression, which quickly shifts back into anger directed at the two agents, who babble an apology.
“Solas…” she says and his face betrays a deep sadness again as he turns to her. “Ma vhenan, this is not your fault.”
He looks pleasantly surprised by her words and she smiles at him, bringing his hand to her chest and continuing: “This is not a fate you cannot escape. One day everyone will know that Fen’Harel is not a monster. One day everyone, not just me and the others, will love you.”
He smiles, but it looks more like a pained grimace.
“I very doubt that.” he replies softly, his voice hoarse, and she knows that means he’s forcing back tears.
Fury aimed at Thedas, at the foolish magisters of Tevinter, at the blind high powers of the Qun, at every idiotic noble of Orlais, at every stubborn Dalish and city elf, boils in her and her expression hardens, steel-like.
“Then I will make them see!” She turns to the table, then back at Solas, unable to stay still, and babbles, trembling with rage: “And if they won’t see, then… then… then fuck them!”
She is not one to curse and swear bad words, so Solas looks even more surprised, the agents snicker, and she blushes and feels the urge to apologize. But then Solas laughs and the sound isn’t sad, but relieved and happy instead, and she stares at him as if it is a miraculous sight.
‘It is.’ she thinks holding his hand tighter. It’s so good to finally see and hear him laugh like this!
“Thank you, vhenan.” he says and they forget about the agents, just looking at each other, Scarlet with a cheerful, shy smile, Solas with an amused, grateful one.
Then one of the spies speak, saying they have nothing else to report, and Solas distractedly gives them permission to leave.
“We will stay here for a while.” He beams at her. “There are many books I want to show you.”
“I…” She giggles and shakes her head, admitting: “I tried to read some before, while you and Abelas were talking, but they were all in ancient Elvhen and I couldn’t understand much.”
She raises her eyes to him and adds ashamedly: “Sorry. I didn’t mean to listen. I…”
“Oh, vhenan.” he chuckles, leading her back to the table where her books await. “I had all intentions of letting you hear everything. And Abelas knew that.”
“Are things in Tevinter really that bad?” She stares at the table and books without really seeing them, worried about Dorian and everyone else trapped in Minrathous. “Dorian and Leliana never told me anything and she is supposed to know everything about these things!”
She turns to Solas, pale, and he wraps an arm around her to give her comfort.
“My agents never encountered any of yours there, my love.” he says, resting his forehead on hers. “Perhaps Leliana never thought it necessary, since Dorian and other contacts were there, or perhaps she considered it too dangerous.”
“Maybe.” Scarlet kisses his chin, then nuzzles his wolf pelt, deepening the embrace. “I always took care of the matters in southern Thedas, while I left Tevinter in Dorian’s hands. I… I gave him a too big burden.”
“No, vhenan. That is a burden he would have in any case. He cannot avoid it, just like Varric can’t avoid his in Kirkwall.”
She frowns and asks, already knowing the answer: “Are people giving him problems too? What about the others?”
Solas hesitates, but his hand never stops rubbing gently her back and his lips are pressed on her hair.
“They are all having some problems with nobles, politics, and so on. Their ties to you, the old Inquisition, and consequently myself are not good ties anymore.”
She grumbles, but her rage passes soon, because Solas chuckles, touched by her endearing fury, and so she is able to look at him with a small, but bright smile.
“Does wanting to kick every noble’s ass make me a terrible person?”
“No.” He kisses her. “It makes you a very sensible and wise individual.”
She giggles and hides her face against his pelt again, resting her hand on the small of his back like she wanted to do before. Solas panics a little, fearing she is hurting herself, but she reassures him and even pinches his butt.
He starts kissing her forehead and hair, so she raises her head again to catch his lips and pepper his face with sweet pecks.
They spend some more time there in the library: Solas finds books written in the Common Tongue for her, old but readable, all about food or sewing like she requested, but he also helps her read some parts of the ancient elven books she found earlier.
There, in the vast library drowned in light and the smell of old paper, time stops and it almost seems to them that they are in a different reality, separated from the base, from the soldiers and agents walking just outside the doors, from Thedas; a personal pocket of reality where nothing can bother them, where worries and pain don’t exist.
They didn’t sleep much after Enasalin’s funeral, so lunch time soon comes and Scarlet’s stomach grumbles its request for food.
“Sorry.” she babbles, blushing, as the noise echoes in the large room. Solas chuckles, holds her closer to his chest, not letting her get off his lap immediately, but then he hurries to bring her outside, already listing all the nutritious and healthy dishes she needs to eat to recover her strength.
“We will visit the base after lunch.” he promises her, kissing her cheek as they head back to their room, but Scarlet stops on her tracks and turns to look at the buildings nearby, at the agents bowing their head to them and entering a smaller building: smoke comes out of its roof and she understands those are the kitchens and perhaps even the dining hall.
“Is that where your men eat?” she asks, noticing their huge grins and excitement, which only grow when a bell resonates in the air. Someone, probably the cooks, are calling them to eat, like it happened in the barracks at Skyhold.
“Yes. It is a large space, big enough to accommodate everyone. The old remnants of a ballroom, I believe.” He looks at the last agents who are entering the room, then quickly averts his eyes, smiling at her. “As I said before, the kitchens are much smaller, but useful all the same. Do you want to see them now and personally tell the cooks what you would like to eat?”
Scarlet hums, still staring at the wooden doors, typically elven and typically carved and rich like the ones she saw during her travels, then turns to him and smiles timidly.
“I’d like to eat there, if you don’t mind.”
That surprises Solas. He looks at the dining hall, then at her, then at the dining hall again and each time the frown on his forehead increases.
“Why?” he asks and panic immediately appears in his eyes, together with a bit of puppy-like sadness. “You don’t like our room?”
“I love it!” she reassures him, resting her hand on his cheek. “Vhenan, I love it a lot, but we should really spend some time with your agents. You should spend time with them. Remember what I told you this morning in bed?”
He pouts and looks a bit disgruntled, like a child who doesn’t want to eat his vegetables, but he nods and makes an affirmative sound. Scarlet giggles, but she has to bring her arm back down because her shoulder is burning again, so she gives him a sweet kiss instead.
His pout is smaller than before now.
“You don’t want them to worship you or treat you like a god or a powerful general.” she says, matter-of-factly, getting serious again. “But if you retreat in your room every day and just give them your orders from there, they will never find the courage to see you as more than that, Solas.”
She takes his hand and entwines their fingers, feeling how calloused and rough his are.
“Please, vhenan, I know how it works. For months the people of the Inquisition saw me as the Herald, as a holy figure or an invincible, godly leader, when all I wanted was to be seen as me.”
She tugs at his hand to make him look at her, but the wind is blowing her hair in all directions and she can’t see well. Solas shields her with his body and helps her brush back her red locks and she keeps going:
“You want to be seen as Solas, but you never give them the chance. Give it to them and your life here in the base will be better, easier.”
“It’s already better now that you are here.” he says softly and Scarlet is forced to use a harsher tone.
“Solas!” she exclaims, making him pout and look away again. She sighs and slowly takes his chin to move his face back to her. “Listen to me. I may not always remain here. My presence may be required elsewhere to continue our research or to deal with those stupid nobles, and I don’t want to leave knowing you will be alone again, without anyone you want to count on.”
She hisses, curses softly her shoulder, then before Solas can change topic and ask her to see her wound, she hurries to continue: “I want to leave knowing you will be surrounded by people you trust and respect, people who can finally see you not only as a guide, but as a friend and an amicable figure too. Just like the people of the Inquisition saw me, saw you, saw each of our friends.”
“The people of the Inquisition didn’t see me as…”
“Yes, they did!” she interrupts him, glaring at him. “They respected you, Solas, and they always came to you for help and questions. And don’t pretend you don’t remember it!”
He huffs, his cheeks redder than before, and doesn’t deny it, so she continues: “It’s because you were yourself. You acted like your true self, like Solas, and even though you were burdened by your secret, you came to us like the man you were before becoming Fen’Harel.”
She pleads him with her eyes and concludes softly, but passionately: “Vhenan, I don’t want to be the only one to see this lovely, kind part of you. You have to show everyone how wonderful and gentle Solas is, not how cold and distant Fen’Harel is. This too will make you happier.”
Eyes cast down, he doesn’t answer. Scarlet rubs her thumb on the back of his hand, a soothing movement that helps him relax, and soon he raises his eyes to hers. They are full of tears and so, so tired, but also somewhat relieved.
He then glances at the doors of the dining hall and listens to the humming and indiscernible sounds of the agents talking and eating there. Finally, he looks back at Scarlet and murmurs: “Wait here for a moment, please.”
He gives her a kiss, then heads to their room. Adahl and Alas are still guarding the door and she wonders when they will eat. Perhaps another agent will send them something or they will go later, when someone will come to guard the door in their place?
Why do they need to stand there, anyway? Solas was never the type to lock himself into a room to avoid any kind of contact with people: at Skyhold, he was happy to spend his time and study in the rotunda, where many people passed through, where everyone could have access to, where he could hear and talk with the people on the upper levels. He never asked anyone to knock at the door or ask him permission to speak to him.
Like she thought, he completely closed himself off from any kind of positive contact here in his base. He just survives the day, begrudgingly giving orders and moping in his secluded room.
Before opening the door, he stops to talk with Adahl and Alas; they look stunned, but he seems to insist about something, and so they slowly step away from the door, walking towards the dining hall, spears still in their hands and a baffled expression on their faces.
They bow at Scarlet, she bows back, and then she hears the door shut close. Solas has entered their room and she hopes he won’t cry there alone, haunted by his much stress and anxiety.
She is alone in the courtyard now and the sun is getting quite hot. She wonders again where this base is. Near Antiva, perhaps? She doesn’t remember the weather ever being so hot in the Free Marches, in the zones where her clan used to wander.
She finds an old stone bench near a small tree; its leaves offer a cold, welcomed shade, so she sits there, keeping an eye on the door and waiting for Solas to return. In the meantime, she counts the flowers at her feet and studies the embroideries on her clothes with expert eyes.
She knows he will come back this time, so the wait isn’t atrociously painful.
It doesn’t take long: soon the door opens again and her eyes quickly move to it, her mouth opens to call him and…
And then she sees the Solas she always saw every time she stepped into the rotunda: the Solas who wore a comfortable, light sweater she had made for him, the Solas who wore a pair of well-worn pants and walked barefooted.
The jawbone pendant isn’t there anymore. The armor is gone. There are just the sweater, the pants, and the soft straps he uses to cover the back of his bare feet.
He comes to her with a shy and satisfied smile and she can’t even get up; she stares at him from the bench, agape, and soon her eyes swell with tears.
“This is the first sweater you sent me, remember?” he says, touching the fabric with reverence. “I never had the chance to wear it before. It is very soft and beautiful.”
Then he sees and hears her cry, but he doesn’t panic. He sits next to her and wraps his arm around her shoulders, careful not to put too much weight on her wounded one. She leans on him and he strokes her cheeks with his thumb to dry her tears there.
“Since they all expect Fen’Harel to wear an armor,” he says with a smile, “I am sure they won’t be much surprised to see Solas wear this simpler attire.”
“I’m sure they will love it.” Scarlet giggles. She rubs her face on his chest, mumbling: “It fits you well.”
“It does. Your ability with the needle is astounding, vhenan.” He kisses her forehead, then her lips and says: “Now let’s go to eat. I do not want you to stay without food for too long.”
They get up, but before going Scarlet observes him for another minute or so, sniffling and blinking her eyes fast to push back her tears. Then she smiles at him, happy and proud, and says: “Ar lath, ma vhenan.”
“I love you too, my heart.” he replies, cupping her cheeks and nuzzling her nose. He is smiling too. “Shall we go?”
He gets more anxious as they approach the doors of the dining room, but he takes a deep breath and manages to smile at her again when Scarlet takes his hand and squeezes it.
“Ready?” she asks, just like he asked her a few hours ago, before leaving their room.
“Ready.” he nods, then pushes the door opens.
The voices they could hear from outside become louder, now that they are actually there in the room, only to end abruptly with some gasps here and there.
A shocked silence falls and countless elven eyes move to where they stand. Scarlet feels a tinge of anxiety and panic as well and prays Solas won’t feel embarrassed or mortified.
All his agents, sitting at many long tables in the wide room, are gawking at them, but especially at him and his new clothes, which they never saw him wear before. She distractedly spots the Sentinels in a far corner of the room, distanced from the others, and they are staring too.
“Don’t worry, it’s just like at Skyhold. Remember how we all ate together?” she whispers and Solas makes an affirmative, but high-pitched sound. He looks ready to bolt out of the room at any moment.
They have to move, to act. They have to break both this silence and this unbearable ice.
First, she starts by looking for an empty seat. She thinks she found one when suddenly someone gets up and waves at them from one of the farthest tables.
It’s Melana and Adahl and Alas, sitting at her same table, are looking at her as if she lost her mind.
“Lady Lavellan! Here!”
Scarlet smiles at them to let them know she heard, since she can’t wave back, then she turns to Solas, who is visibly surprised.
“See? We already made the first step.”
They physically make their first one inside the dining hall, hand in hand, and the agents nod at them and greet them as they pass by their tables.
Solas still looks nervous and on the verge of a panic attack, but when Scarlet thanks the three agents who welcomed them at their table and sits down without letting his hand go, his lips curl into a smile and he sits at her side, still holding her hand.