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2018-11-24
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The Wake of It

Summary:

From a prompt on tumblr, requesting Lavellan's feelings in the aftermath of Solas' break-up.

 

She knows he is lying.

Or at least, not telling her the whole truth.

Work Text:

 

 

 

She knows he is lying.

 

Or at least, not telling her the whole truth.

 

What she does not know is if it is a relief or not. If she is offended that he thinks she would believe his excuses, his insistence that he does not want to ‘distract’ her, or if she is more concerned with why he would bother to make such excuses in the first place. Part of her feels betrayed and part of her feels worried. Self-doubts and insecurities and recriminations bubble up like an ugly cocktail, and no amount of assurances on his part that it has nothing to do with her character or their relationship actually dissuade her from that line of thinking.

 

But the truth is, she is waiting.

 

She is angry, yes. She is hurt, too. There is a voice inside of her that wonders if she has been taken for a merry ride. Played the fool for a man with conflicting goals or, even more likely, somehow taken advantage of him.

 

She is all too keenly aware that her advantages, power, and influence are growing - while his own remain mostly dependent on her.

 

But even so, he has promised her answers. Even so, she is waiting for them. And most of her expects to get them. Most of her expects him to reveal some fear or dread or insecurity; that when Corypheus falls, Solas will finally tell her what is wrong. He will tell her the truth, and then they will be able to go from there. To pick up the pieces or to find a new path. Or to part in earnest, if that is truly what is needed.

 

She loves him.

 

Sometimes they disagree. Sometimes he resents the Dalish, and rejects the elven communities around himself, and withdraws into dreams and books and paintings like a wounded thing. And sometimes she is wary of his exploits, and weary of the weight of magic and calamity, and makes her own withdrawals. Sometimes the flickering light her palm becomes an ache. Sometimes the detachment in his voice is more cutting than concerning. Sometimes they simply seem to be coming from such utterly different places.

 

But more often than not, they steady one another.

 

She loves him.

 

And she is waiting.

 

The heaviest blow is not at the waterfall, when he ends their tryst. It is at the gates of Skyhold, when she turns and finds him gone.