Chapter Text
"Solas."
From her place across the room, she could see the moment her greeting reached him, pulling him away from someplace deep within his thoughts. He slowly lowered his brush, resting it against the ceramic he used to mix his paints, his eyes warm as he turned them to her, a soft smile curving the edge of his lips.
"Vhenan."
She leaned back against his desk, choosing her purchase carefully to avoid knocking over the stacks of old volumes and artefacts that littered its surface, and watched as he descended from the scaffolding, twisting from the top of the platform to land delicately on the balls of his feet. There was a lightness to his step as he approached her, hands clasping behind his back even as he cut short the distance between them, looming into her space until his breath ghosted against her skin. He stayed like that for a moment, gaze flickering over her features, lingering, until she made to make a move towards him and he withdrew, lips curling into a softer, more sombre smile. His arm brushed hers as he reached for the stack of tomes, adjusting the angle of one close to the top of the pile.
"Did you have a question, vhenan?"
This was part of their dance, this game of proximity and soft touches, skirting the edges of each other's control, testing boundaries, waiting to see who would break first and take that final step.
It was no wonder that the events at Halamshiral had delighted him. He'd mentioned enjoying the curiosities of court intrigue, but she suspected it was the dance that had held the most appeal, the spectacle of it all. As much as he claimed detachment from the people and events of modern Thedas, it was her belief that he couldn't resist, after all his years in the fade, the chance to live these moments for himself.
She'd had little interest in the machinations of Orlesian politics, but her discussion with Solas during the ball itself had endeavoured to change that. A softly spoken word, pressed in a kiss against her hand as he dipped low in a bow, voice pitched low and full of wonder as the murmurs of the Nobles of Orlais filled the hall around them. "Your actions tonight will determine the future of this country, lethallin."
It had helped her realize, truly, what her role within this charade was. Intentionally or not, his words and their implication had haunted her the rest of the evening.
She had been prepared to shepherd and protect her clan, but filling this position for an entire country, for people she barely knew and could claim little kinship with - that had never been her intention. Yet, with the blood of a Duchess staining her hands and the body of the Empress lying in the great hall, it seemed as if this was to be her role.
A light touch to her arm brought her back to the moment, Solas' eyes on hers as he raised the hand to her cheek, smoothing a thumb across its curve in unspoken question.
"Vhenan."
She hadn’t come here to speak about this, no matter how much the responsibility weighed on her. She reached up to settle her hand over his, squeezing it briefly as she gave him a small smile. The concern in his gaze eased, to be replaced by curiosity as their fingers twined together, coming to rest between them.
"I came to ask you about Tarasyl'an Te'las."
"Ah." His eyes creased into a smile, and he leaned in closer, resting his weight against the table as he considered her for a moment. Seeming to arrive at some conclusion, he inclined his head in a nod, a brow arching as he smiled again. "Would you like to see it for yourself?"
Her brow pinched in confusion. “As in…”
Realisation dawned on her even as she spoke, and he gave a low laugh that devolved into a chuckle as he straightened, tugging at her hand to draw her with him across the room, to where his pallet lay tucked away against one wall.
“I’ve come across more than a few memories of this place in the Fade. The magic here gives them strength, supporting more than one perspective of the story. It’s quite fascinating.”
At his gesture, she took a seat at the foot of the bed, curling her legs into herself as she watched him climb onto the pallet beside her, taking her hand in his once again. With a smile in her direction, he adopted a meditative position, feet folded in at the knees, head bowed. She followed him, although with the speed of her racing heart within her chest, she wondered if she would be able to reach the state of calm required for this process at all.
Letting her eyes slip shut, she took a deep breath, working on the breathing exercises she’d practiced when she was first learning to control her magic. Gradually, her heartbeat slowed to a more manageable pace. Clearing her head was more difficult, but it was easier with a companion beside her, the steady rhythm of his breaths giving her something to focus on, until her breaths were slow and even, and all other distractions had dropped away.
There was a flare of magic beside her, soft and muted, but before she could open her eyes to see what Solas was doing, she felt the press of his aura against hers, calm and sure, guiding as it weaved around hers, until it was impossible to tell where his ended and hers began. He began murmuring something, although she couldn’t make out the words, the swirl of their combined auras winding tighter, faster- before she felt a tug against her consciousness, and with his hand clutched tight in hers, she fell away from the waking world and into a dream.
---
It was a beautiful dream.
The walls rising around her were familiar, and yet not – the stone was unblemished and shiny, newly crafted and inlaid with marble and glass mosaics, in intricate, complicated patterns that filled the rotunda with shards of glimmering light. The sunlight shone uninhibited through the open ceiling, but although there was nothing visible to the naked eye above her, she could feel the presence of a barrier, set within the stones, that kept the elements at bay.
Creators, she could feel the presence of magic everywhere. This was nothing like that shared dream in Haven, although she’d been able to feel the remembered pressure of the rift in the veil pressing down on her from above – this was more, so much more. It was in the foundations beneath her feet, the air she breathed, and it set the magic inside of her alight as well, feeding it as if it were kindling to a fire, until she filled fit to burst.
There was a light tugging at her hand, and she glanced down to find Solas’ eyes once more on hers. Another smile played across his lips, before his fingers squeezed around hers again, reminding her that she still had not let go of his hand.
“Are you ready?”
She could not suppress the awe in her voice, almost breathless with it.
“There’s more?”
His laughter here was full and strong, resonating through the chamber. The magic around them reacted to it in small flares of aquamarine light interspersed with gold that highlighted the jutting cut of his features, the gentle curve of his mouth.
It took her a moment to drag her eyes away from the thought, memories of the last time they’d been here to the forefront of her mind – the memory of that kiss, that passion, had kept her company during those few frightening nights in Emprise de Lion after Solas had received too great an injury to be healed by potion, and had to be taken back to Skyhold by caravan – and then he was pulling away, the hand that had held hers snaking round to rest against the curve of her waist, before he steered them towards a carved alcove on the far side of the room.
“Come. To the Great Hall.”