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Solas looked out over the fractured surface of the frozen lake, his breath a white cloud in front of him and not another soul disturbing the pristine layers of snow for as far as the eye could see. He welcomed the sharp pain from the frost biting the skin of his bare toes and the chill of the air on his uncovered scalp and neck. He made no attempt to shield himself from the cold; it was a welcome distraction and a just punishment. A long, long time ago, there would have been an expression of the pain etched into his features, then, he would have raged against his fate, would have poured magic into the air around him, easing his pain by letting it flow into his surroundings and letting the world know that he hurt - but not so now. No solace would be found in a futile outburst, a youthful statement of emotion to the inanimate scene around him. The pride that had driven those outbursts had matured and it now kept him silent and his shoulders straight, despite the downturned corners of his mouth and the emotion alive in his eyes.
He knew he would have to compose himself eventually, this inner turmoil a threat when crossing into the fade, but for now, forcing stillness would only make matters worse so instead, he worked to bring distance between himself and his former companions, measured strides and keeping to the paths he knew would not be watched by Leliana’s people. It seemed inevitable that the spymaster would point out that he had to have known her sources to evade them so completely, and while his journey lasted, he put up no resistance to the images of a flushed bare face, alternately knowing and betrayed, that tortured him. It was not a new sensation, there were many such images that came before, but even the older pain felt fresh, once more awakened by the emotions that tied him to Skyhold – then and now he seemed destined to walk from the place with the weight of yet another disappointment, “I meant well” ringing hollow in his ears.
The sun was directly above him in the sky, even though none of it’s warmth remained by the time it reached him or the icy ground underfoot. The sky was completely clear and as he moved onto the frozen lake he kept his eyes on the horizon, looking for dark spots that could betray the pursuit of a messenger bird. No such signs of civilization were to be seen however and the quiet sound of his footsteps sounded loud and crude in the stillness of the mountains. As the sun sank lower, he reached the other side and by the time it created a fiery halo around the mountaintops he had made it halfway up the next peak. The narrow mouth of a cave was his target, half obscured by fallen rocks and snow, invisible from anywhere but directly beneath. It had been more than a year since he had camped here last, but the dry cold had ensured that the site looked no different, a fire place and some brittle sticks, small animal bones in the dark corner. Despite of the dryness of the wood, it took Solas several attempts to set it ablaze, his magic clumsy in his frozen fingers. With an elven curse, he rubbed the life back into them and focussed his mind to warm the rest of his body, knowing the fire would take much longer to warm up the temporary shelter.
Within the hour, darkness had fallen, narrowing the world to a small radius around the fire. Solas lay stretched out in it’s glow, reclining against the smooth wall of stone, feeling the presence of the mountain around him. It had been enough to lull him to sleep a year ago, but now it just made him more acutely aware of how different it felt to the whispering of the dreams of living creatures shaping the fade. Not even spirits felt drawn to this place tonight, not yet aware that a feeling creature had set up camp in the empty wastes.
He closed his fingers to a fist, the elbow resting on his bent knee. His memory recreated the feeling of her face under his fingers, ancient magic erasing the marks that sat just under the skin. The echo of the glow that had settled in his heart upon seeing her free sparked in his chest and he heard her breath hitch as he spoke; his fierce pride at having her full attention and affection. But not even the wind broke the silence on the mountain until the memory faded and he allowed himself a strangled sigh. The centuries had not stopped his will from wanting to show the world his vision of how things could be, and for the first time in centuries he had felt a matching will pressing back against his, not in a challenge, but an equal, a companion. And this young elf’s spirit shone brighter even, not dimmed by past failures and not schooled to remain on the path chosen long ago. Perhaps it had been pride, to want to be seen in return, for sure it had been selfish. In another life, he could have offered up his experience and knowledge and asked her to stand with him for what he believed and he was sure that in that life she would have done so without hesitation. Would she hate him now? She had not when he left her that evening in Crestwood, her pleading voice and shaking hands reaching out to him. I will understand, her eyes had said, but he knew that was not possible.
He closed his eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath and forcing his hand to unclench, the nails having dug angry marks into the palm. A shake of the head and he lifted his arms to cast a ward at the soft borders of the firelight, an unnecessary precaution, but if a stray predator attacked and killed him while still weak... a lonely death with his purpose still undone, the last possible failure. The wards in place, he pulled a blanket from his pack, spreading it out on the chilly ground. It was time to find Mythal… he felt the sadness but knew it would not add much to what was already haunting him, having reached the limit of how much he could distinguish between what caused the anguish. But before even that, he would have to visit Cole. No one could follow him here and he deserved to walk the path alone.
He purposefully cleared his mind and heart, staring up at the shadows the firelight threw on the walls, feeling himself still, his mind eager to cross over into the fade. After many moments of merciful calm he looked away from the wall, finding his surroundings not much changed, reflecting the tight control on his thoughts and feelings. It was not cold or warm anymore and he knew that if he stepped out of the cave he would find himself somewhere else altogether. Cole was never hard to find in the fade, unlike in the waking world. Even when he was fully in that world, now that he was more like the spirit he used to be, there was a distinctly Cole shaped hole in the fade, as if he had taken some of it’s fabric with him into the real world. It wasn’t that he drew attention, but he simply did not care to conceal his whereabouts and Solas had no trouble sensing him, folding the fade around him as he strode towards the spirit. He kept his eyes uncharacteristically lowered, seemingly contemplating the movements of his feet on the relatively blank fade. From the looks of the floor around him, the fade shaped itself on his memory of its physical appearance in the lair of the nightmare. He still did not look up to confirm this, knowing that as Cole came closer, he would be able to see her and it seemed cruel to invade her privacy now, he had no right to spy on her own pain. And not the heart to see if she might have changed, if suspicion and betrayal could have turned her bitter. He could not bear that.
When he had advanced closely enough he focussed inwards, ready to communicate with his friend. But then, suddenly, Cole seemed… gone. He startled, straightening to scan his surroundings, forgetting his resolve. The fade looked as he would have expected, except for…
“Hello, Solas.” She said, tentatively. She had her hands awkwardly clasped behind her back, expression carefully schooled. Solas was sure that his face was doing him no such favours – his surprise and an even stronger emotion had struck him quite speechless. How was this possible? She could not have seen him, how could she know how?
She smiled a bit at his silence. “Ah, I am not completely predictable then.” She said, smile turning wistful quickly, but keeping her distance. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to make things harder for you.”
It seemed she had the perfect plan to keep him from coherence and he had to shake his head to clear it.
“Not here to… make things harder for… me?” he managed to get out before his senses kicked back in full force and in a moment he was upon her, crushing her smaller frame to his chest with a low growl. One hand buried in her short hair, the other around her lower back, he inhaled hungrily. She laughed breathlessly and his heart clenched fiercely as she put her own arms around his neck. They remained entwined for a long moment before the Inquisitor stepped back with a shaky sigh.
He found his voice. “Da’lath, I should not be surprised at you any more.” He said, with animation. “It humbles me.” He moved to pull her close again, unable to draw back so soon when he had had no time to build his resolve, but the look on her face stopped him. She was trying to formulate a question and he contented himself with caressing her hand, making her blush with his urgency.
“I had feared that you would not come to see me, so I asked Cole for help. I don’t think he understood, but…” She let the sentence trail off and he hung his head in shame.
“I was not going to come and see you.” He said softly, not offering up his reasoning, prepared to own his actions. She just nodded to herself and pressed his hand.
“The orb… it is yours. How did he get it?”
He drew in his breath sharply; head snapping up and broad shoulders straightening. How did they end up here?
“I gave it to him.” He said with the full weight of responsibility that came with it, once more proudly refusing to follow up with the excuses he wanted so badly for her to hear.
Again, she nodded, as if comparing his answer to her mental notes. “You joined us to make things right again, you did not think he would be able to do what he did.”
“Yes…” he confirmed, mournfully. “And I hoped to get it back, vhenan.”
“You are like Flemeth then?” There was a great urgency in her voice and she turned her hand in his to return his grip, as if afraid he would flee.
It was not an unfounded fear. He had been completely taken off guard by her appearance, but he owed it to a million past mistakes to not repeat his selfish missteps. He could not endanger his path now, it was far too late for that. But her eyes were still full of understanding and he made a choice.
“Not quite, but I am of her kind.” He said at last studying her face closely. “Your people would call me Fen’Harel, though I am neither god nor wolf.”
Her expression was completely unreadable, and her eyes fluttered close, hiding them from view. She teetered a little. “Fenedhis! Ar isala sahvin*. If you disappear now I will come find you.” She warned and released his hand to sit on the ground.
With both of them broadcasting their emotions into the fade he could feel minor spirits in the air around them and the lair of the nightmare had given way to a different landscape – the Crestwood lake that he had last spoken like this to her. He wondered if it appeared so to her as well or if the fables of her people were deeply ingrained enough to present her with a more threatening view. Bringer of nightmares, indeed, he thought sadly.
They were engulfed in silence for a while, Solas standing tall before her as if at trial, but his expression one of tender regret. Her hands were pressed together in front of her heart and she looked older that her years.
“It is unfair, ma sa’lath, your lot in this world. And among my many mistakes - you know the consequences of one of them now - hurting you is one of the most selfish.” He said, unsure if to approach her further.
She looked up to search his face and he met her gaze steadily. What questions would she have for the harellan, betrayer to his kin?
“Will your plans threaten us?” she asked, seriously and then clarified - “ The Inquisition? Thedas?”
“I can not know for sure.” was his mournful reply. “There will likely be… some amount of chaos.”
“Will you tell me what you are going to do?”
He did not expect her to take his hand once more. He quickly kneeled on the ground beside her, resisting the urge to crush her in an embrace again. She looked infinitely worried, and infinitely beautiful to him. Instead of a reply he pressed her hand to his lips and when she did not speak further he pressed another kiss to her forehead.
Her facial expression softened at his touch. “You think it is the right thing to do, that you have no choice.” It was a statement not a question, if spoken tentatively.
”Ir abelas, vhenan” he whispered at last giving into the need to gather her in his arms, marvelling that she let him do so. “I am sorry. So sorry.” He repeated into her hair. He was sorry – and he also was ashamed of the fierce joy and need that spread through him when she once more returned his embrace.
He almost felt the weight of the million questions as she made a conscious effort to push them from her. “Then I will accept that, hahren. I worry, but I cannot fear you.” She said almost apologetically, her lips close to his ears. He froze and she caressed his cheek with her hand, faintly glowing with the power of the mark. “Don’t carry guilt for on my behalf, Fen’harel. I am free to make my own choices and you made it clear enough that you thought this would end badly. I’m glad to have known you, and it would hurt me to know that you think of what we had with nothing but pain.”
She could not know how deeply her words affected him – his breath hitched and he pressed his forehead to hers as he felt the words settle in his heart like glowing orbs of light. With no words adequate enough to offer in return he kissed her, instead, for the first time without the pangs of guilt and regret. She met his lips in kind, both memorizing the other.
“Dareth shiral, Solas. Ma’arlath.”
He stepped back with a pained moan and glittering eyes, but his smile was wide and proud. “Ma emma lath, lethallan. Be free.”
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Fenedhis! Ar isala sahvin - Damn it! I need time.
Ir abelas - I'm sorry
Dareth shiral – safe journey
Ma’arlath/ma emma lath – I love you
Da’lath – little love