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The light of the Veil slowly fades behind him, and Solas looks at the cold, gray, vacant space in front of him. It feels more hollow than before, and suddenly, the weight of the last few moments comes crashing down.
His knees give way as a sob cracks through him.
He failed.
Everything failed.
It was all for nothing. All the bloodshed, all the lies were now just millions of reminders that he wasn't good enough. Strong enough.
Mythal left him, again. She did not come. She left him as she had done all those years ago. She did not appreciate all that he had done for her…
A gentle hand touches his shoulder, and he opens his tear-filled eyes to see a small patch of grass in his baron wasteland and the feeling of the sun around him. Solas looks down to see that his armor is gone, and he's left in simply cotton apostate garb…when he was just Solas.
“Ma sa’lath.” Caelali slowly lowers herself to him, treating him like a wounded halla. He takes in her face, committing everything to memory as if she will disappear in an instant, one of his many regrets haunting him in this prison. Her reddish-brown hair still reminds him of those moments right before sunrise when the world isn’t quite ready to wake, while her eyes are the color of the purest stream, unmarred…untouched. Her face may show small signs of aging due to holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, but she is still as beautiful as the day he met her.
His Dalish huntress with a proclivity for exploring and kindness…and a little bit of looting, and yet she was before him with a warmth that enveloped him.
She chose him.
“Vhenan.” She softly smiles as she pulls him into her, and he willingly lets her manipulate his body as he lets the tears flow more freely now.
Caelali came. She left all that she knew behind to be with him not knowing the darkness she may endure. She was here…
His heart was here.