Work Text:
The only room in Skyhold that seemed to calm the voices in Faena’s mind was the one which held the Eluvian, and when she wasn’t needed for the most urgent of Inquisitor business, she could usually be found sat there with her arms around her knees, gazing at the ancient artefact. Everywhere else was far too noisy, with too many voices fighting for her attention, both in the real world and in her head, and she’d spent much of her time since investigating the Temple of Mythal alone. There were too many revelations for her to simply carry on as usual, as if nothing had happened. No-one could expect that of her.
She heard the soft sound of his steps behind her, but did not turn around. Instead she let Solas wait patiently behind her, as she collected her courage to speak her mind rather than just let it go as she might have done before. She was on edge enough with him after they had a fight about her choice to take the power of the Well of Sorrows, and though they reconciled and he had apologised, she couldn’t shake the feeling of his disapproval hanging over her. And as was her habit, her internalised fear and sadness twisted inside her into anger.
“Do you think that I am stupid?” She finally asked, her voice echoing in the small room. Solas waited a beat before speaking.
“I would answer that, but I expect the question was rhetorical.” He replied calmly.
“Have you been laughing behind my back this entire time?” She continued voicing the questions that burned inside her, unable to hold them back any longer. “The silly little Dalish girl, with her foolish beliefs and naïve trust. And she dares call herself an elf.” Faena couldn’t stand to be sitting still any longer, so stood up and walked closer to the Eluvian, still not looking at her lover. “Did you get a kick out of humouring a shemlen pretending at being Elven?”
“This is because of what Abelas said, isn’t it?” Solas asked quietly, his voice sad. The sound of his pity only made her angrier.
“Partly, but that is not my point.” She laughed shortly and without humour, then finally turned to look Solas in the eye. “Did you think that I wouldn’t work it out eventually?”
“It depends as to what you are referring to.”
“Do not be smart with me right now, Solas.” She snapped back.
“I am sorry, vhenan. I do not mean to aggravate you, but I am lost. I don’t know what you need from me, or I would give it to you.”
“Go on, take a stab at it.” She challenged him. He sighed deeply for a moment, never taking his eyes off her.
“I think that you need someone to tell you that Abelas is an ancient ass who knows a lot less than you give him credit for. He has been sequestered in a crumbling temple for millennia. I know that what he said hurt you, and I could kill him for it, but what I cannot comprehend is how you can unquestionably believe him.”
“He was right about one thing though, wasn’t he?” She said quietly. “‘Elvhen such as yourself’. That’s what he said to you, Solas.” Solas paled, but did not break her gaze.
“Ah.” Was all he said in response.
“Thank you for at least having the common decency to not try to deny it.”
“I respect your intelligence enough because, in answer to one of your many questions, I do not think at all that you are stupid. We certainly would not have got this far if you were.”
“How comforting.” She replied sarcastically.
“It can’t have just been that which made you realise…”
“That you are ancient Elvhen?” She interrupted him.
“That, yes.”
“For one thing, your story of growing up in a small village as a mage and being able to avoid Templars always struck me as intensely lucky, especially when you take into consideration how we Dalish have to move around constantly to avoid them and they still manage to find us.”
“No-one else seemed to find fault with it.”
“I said it sounded lucky, not completely unbelievable.” Faena corrected him. She started pacing as she spoke, gesticulating with her hands. “Then there is your extensive knowledge of Arlathan that I have seen no evidence of being possible merely from sleeping in the right places.”
“It’s how I found out about modern history.” He informed her, and she glowered at him. “I apologise; do carry on.”
“How gracious of you.” She said, slipping into sarcasm again. “Finally, I am by no means fluent in Elvish, but I understand enough to know that when we were in the Fade at Adamant, the Nightmare called you a trickster, which made me wonder what it was that you were keeping from me.”
“But you didn’t ask me.” He stated quietly.
“I promised I wouldn’t.” She said, holding her head a little higher. “I keep my word.”
“I love you so much.” He told her, his eyes adoring as he looked at her. Faena shook her head.
“How can you, when I am what I am and you are what you are? It is no secret that you share Abelas’ disgust for my people. No wonder you fear dying alone when there are no true elves left, to your mind.”
“Faena…”
“What?! It’s true isn’t it? I certainly hope you had fun slumming it with the likes of me…” Solas suddenly closed the space between them, putting his hands firmly on her shoulders. Faena stared him down.
“Faena Lavellan.” He addressed her, his voice vehement. “I know it is difficult for everything you have ever known to be true to be turned on its head. But if you trust the opinion of an ancient elf so much, then you must believe me when I say that I love you for who you are. You are my equal and my other half; surely my being here must tell you that?”
“But I’m just a normal girl. I feel like I’m suddenly on the back foot in our relationship…”
“Why, because I’m incredibly old? I think the baldness should have tipped you off on that front…”
“Hush.” Faena told him, putting her hand on his jaw affectionately. She found that her cultivated anger had softened into sorrow. “I think what I can’t wrap my head around it how anyone like you could be interested in someone like me; I mean, I’ve only lived just over two decades. Two decades compared to millennia…” She shook her head, unable to comprehend the amount of time that Solas had been alive.
“I was asleep for most of it, in all fairness.” He said with a smile.
“But you lived in the glory of Arlathan. You walked the earth when magic was so woven into daily life, when our people weren’t discriminated against… I can’t even begin to fathom that world, for all I have been taught to in my life with the Dalish. This world must seem so bleak, and boring; and I’m a part of it… this is my world, Solas. This is the legacy I was left, and as much as I will try to help my people, we will never get Elvhenan back again.”
“I will admit, when I first woke up, I was disappointed with the world as it now is. But you changed all of that, Faena.”
“How?” Solas frowned as he thought about how to answer her question.
“Waking from uthenera and into this world… It’s like when you are having a nightmare in which you know that it is only a dream. You console yourself that it isn’t real, that none of it is really happening, so you don’t put much care into the events happening. But you were the only thing that made me realise that I wasn’t asleep anymore, and that…” He stopped for a moment, and finished his thought as a whisper. “This is real.”
“I don’t know what to say to comfort you, Solas; I want to, but there is no way that I could understand…”
“Thank you; that is enough.” He said quietly, stroking her hair out of her face. “I’m supposed to be consoling you, remember?”
“And then I had to go and be a downer and remind you of how shit life is now compared to before…”
“Believe me, Faena; living in Arlathan had its fair share of problems. And life isn’t at all bad now, because I have you. I’d trade a million lifetimes in Elvhenan for just one with you.”
“You’re being very complimentary to me today.”
“I felt you needed the ego boost.” Faena laughed and kissed him.
“In that case, I should have a meltdown more often.”
“I would prefer it if you didn’t. It’s not good for my poor heart.”
“Alright, just don’t introduce me to anymore of your ancient brethren to give me life-questioning-causing rejection. Oh, and there’s that magister who’s trying to doom the world…”
“Both valid reasons for meltdowns. Though I have complete faith that you are able defeat Corypheus.” Faena laughed nervously, unconvinced.
“Let’s leave that sensitive topic alone for the moment, shall we?”
“As you wish.” Solas searched her face for a moment, before grabbing her ears with a smile.
“Hey!” She exclaimed.
“What are these big pointy things?”
“My ears! Are you crazy?”
“And do you know what they mean?”
“That I can hear..?”
“More than that.”
“That I’m an elf!” He let go of her and her hands instantly went up to protect her ears from further manhandling.
“Yes, Faena. No matter the negligible differences between you and the ancient Elvhen, you are one of the People. Never doubt that.”
“I’d say immortality is more than a small difference, Solas.” She said with a wry smile.
“Faena…” He chastised her. She smiled and sighed, and nodded once to herself.
“I am an elf.” She said, noticing all of her turbulent thoughts on this crisis of faith disappear. She was an elf, no matter what some elitist old relic thought.
“Good.” He said with a smile. “Would you like to go somewhere else now?”
“Where do you have in mind?”
“Perhaps we could take a walk. Or maybe you could entertain me as I try to paint, though in reality we both know that you’ll distract me and I’ll get no work done.”
“Just as I like it.” She said with a smile. “Though eventually I have to get some work done. Corypheus isn’t going to fight himself.”
“Worry about that tomorrow. Today belongs to only us.” Solas took her hand, and led her back to the life she could no longer put on hold. And with him at her side, she felt strong enough to take on anything.