#Mythal. ( ic / answered asks ) ❝ ah? ❞ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonlightheretic · 4 years

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Chapter still unknown FULL (or is it?) WIP NSFW (it gets dark ya’ll)

“Where are we?” I struggled to find my bearings in this dark tunnel. The ground seemed unstable, pebbles shifting underfoot. My hands reached out in a blind haste for something solid to guide me through the dark. The walls practically disintegrated at my touch and nearly caved inwards. I did not feel safe. This place was one wrong step away from total collapse. I stumbled, my feet slipping into the rock ridden path, his hand caught my arm.

“You do not need to know.” He answered simply, pulling me to my feet.

It was becoming his go-to reply for everything I asked. I wasn’t satisfied with it. He watched my struggle and called flame to his hand, the hollowed cave’s secrets scattered into the shadows cast by the wiggling ignition. “You have stripped me of my weapons and most of my dignity. Do you mean to strip me of basic information as well? Am I so scary to you, Dread Wolf?” I challenged. Bitterness chewing through my words.

“They elected you as Inquisitor, not for your skill in battle alone. You are formidable. In any case, there is no benefit in informing you, it will make little difference. You will activate this one, as done previously.” His voice dipped into the octaves of an order.

“Where are we?” I pressed. “I want to know what you will destroy.” I stood firm, shoulders squared, refusing to tread further. He turned to face me, the blaze in his hand distorting the shadows across the planes of his face.

“When has any truth of my plans comforted you? Or perhaps, any truth at all? You live, stuck in a halcyon that never existed and you yearn for its return.”

“And who painted that pretty picture for me? This impressive hiraeth? A lie built on lies, a tower, and then brick by brick, a rotunda, and finally, a castle! What a beautiful empire you raised. Such an artist as you perhaps, should have erected that on Skyhold’s walls.”

We dove into a thick silence, neither of us giving in. I could almost see him biting his tongue, any remark quelled by fledgling self-control. He took a breath and smiled.

“You evade blame almost as skillfully as you evaded me, ah, but then again, where are you now?” He tilted his head, his left brow raised. “I wonder, what more dances have you that I not discovered yet?”

“I believe it was you who taught me to dance, Solas. I cannot take credit for my skills, when I have the master in front of me.” I gestured to him.

A muscle in his neck twitched and the fire cradled in his fingers strengthened significantly, staining his skin red.

“There is work to be done. Enough.” Even though the fire was causing us both to sweat in this enclosed space, his words were of pure ice.

We advanced upon this hovel, a crumbling crooked crevice of rock and stalagmites, dripping with Maker knows what. His steps were full of confidence and prior knowledge, muscle attuned with memory. He maneuvered past the tight angles with experience. He had been here before, perhaps?

“Whose bright idea was to locate an artifact in this dreadful place?” I snapped, as I was compelled to duck when a bat screeched by my head. Ah, but if a bat made its home here, surely there was an additional entrance to this hollowed nightmare.

He answered me with a chuckle and then reassured, “It isn’t far. Have patience, Inquisitor.” Ah, so he was no longer angered by my words, or had he folded the displeasure up and saved it for later?

I grabbed his illuminated jaw and snapped his head towards me. “Patience? I waited for you! With each year passing no more than a decade of drought! I have been patient, Solas.” I wasn’t expecting a simple comment to provoke such raw emotion into my words, but there I was, fingers digging into the flesh of his jaw.

Solas’s eyes crept over my face, tracing every detail with his heavy gaze. “And so you have me.” He remarked gruffly and shrugged me off. A small draft tingled against my skin, the blooming flame flickered and listed, perhaps a vein in this stone body led to freedom, after all. But, I could only see what his flaming palm afforded me.

I felt it before I saw it. The anchor reacted, fizzling, smoke-like, and churning the air around it a greenish hue. My first reaction was to recoil and hide it within my cloak. Solas’s armored arm slithered into the fold of my cloak, the fabric hissing against his metal arm guards. He held onto my throbbing hand, pulling it from its hiding place, cool fingers calming my shivering ones, he presented it to the artifact before us. Mist entrapped light uncoiled around the artifact, as if we had woken it from a long slumber, its light stretched and billowed in flight, like a flag caught in the wind and it rippled and convulsed, as if it was rejoicing. A warm welcome, indeed. A statue loomed behind, a winged and headless figure of a woman. Mythal. She was immured in this foul place, a feeling of sorrow washed over me.

“We are within the Vimmark Mountains.” He informed, sullen and remorseful, his eyes lingering on the statue.

A mountain chain, opportunity screamed into my mind. Then we could be in the vicinity of Kirkwall or even Ostwick, or rather, it was also possible we were somewhere in between. What mattered the most was the very fact that we were under a mountain.

“Surely, this place has significance.” I argued, playing along, with my eyes following his.

“Indeed.” He whispered.

Solas closed his palm and in doing so, snuffed out his flame. We were bathed in a greenish and golden light, I stole a glance, his mouth set in a hard line, eyes devoid of emotion, and in doing so, he gave me nothing. Unreadable. He was skilled not only in magic, but also, in masking his intentions. He was undeniably powerful, but so was I.

My heart hammered in my chest, possibly my only chance at stopping the Dread Wolf lay within these simple and faulty rock walls, carved out by water. Maybe, I did not need my little dagger, for it, could not compare with a mountain.

The next set of actions were to be done without instruction, as they were no different than the times prior. But this time, everything would be different. Hesitation would no longer best me.

I neared the artifact, Solas stepped behind me and observed. I lifted my hand and waited, the artifact pulsated with green waves of light surging upwards, and revealing thousands of tiny eyes glaring back at us in this aphotic sanctuary. Fucking bats.

I felt my release and I moved closer to it, the lights brightened in response, and I wondered, could I not only activate the artifact with the anchor, but also destroy it? Hell, I could bring this entire cave down and trap him in, weaponize our very surroundings…and so I did. I had only used the anchor’s power as much as I required of it, in the past, I was too careful to abuse it. That some calamity might befall myself and others if I used it for anything but its intended purpose, but what I needed most was in fact, calamity, itself.

I opened a rift right into the very center of the artifact. In less than a blink of an eye, it exploded into a shower of glass and stone, its ancient powers reveling in the new found freedom. In an instant, the small pocket of this mountain, shuddered and began to collapse, as the rift twisted it into its own shape, pulling and knotting, then thrusting and flailing. The bats flew to an escape as dust, stalagmites and murky water rained down, then chunks of rock plummeted downwards until the very ceiling threatened to fold in like a deck of cards. I tried to avoid the falling debris as the area shook, thunderous and vengeful. I could hear the bats, screeching in terror and I made my way to follow them.

“Moon’Hwa!” Solas roared. Eyes lit, his hands invoked a barrier, though as the mountain piled high, he was struggling to hold it. He gritted his teeth and grunted under the weight, too preoccupied to stop me, for if he let go, we would surely be buried. So this was his limit. I crawled along the ground, my back was pelted with rocks and earth. I covered my head with one hand and dug through debris with the other. He fell to his knee behind me, his gaze burning a hole in my back. The consequences of my actions stopped ricocheting from my body, I peered upwards to realize that his barrier was stretching, enveloping me within its safety.

My heart clenched and I dared to look back at his face. The barrier wavered and he gasped, rocks shimmied through, bouncing off of his pauldrons. His eyes squinting, and I thought I saw the shimmer of tears catching on his lashes, the veins under the skin of his neck and face enlarged as he strained to keep the barrier solid. A stalagmite jabbed into his cheek, drawing a bloody trail down his face. I comforted myself as guilt pulled at my sleeve. I needed to be ruthless, the world depended on it. He saw me as an asset. An important one, if not for the anchor, would he not let me drown in stone and earth? I steeled myself within this resolve. Thus, I needed to get the anchor as far away from him as possible. I pushed onwards and the barrier flickered as it followed me, or rather, it kept one step ahead, an encouragement to go further. Guilt sent its timely reminder and I bit into my lip to keep from turning back. You are leaving him to die. An enormous section of rock slammed into the barrier, it blocked where the humble draft of air whistled through. That meant, the only way out was the Eluvian. I gulped hard, facing disappointment. It would have to do. Dal’nim will lose her father.

“Be quiet!” I seethed, shaking my head in an attempt to be rid of its voice.

It was becoming hard to breathe, the same air I breathed before filtered into my lungs and I quickened to the eluvian, a beacon in this turbulent darkness. Bats dropped to the barrier, sliding around me in a freefalling current of death. I inched closer, my fingers breaching its fluid reflection, the barrier wavered and as I pulled myself in, the tiny collapsing cavern was blasted with blinding blue light. The noise was…indescribable. My ears rang and ached as I was pushed into the eluvian by the blast, flying head first into the sanctum. I was followed by pieces of rubble, stalagmites, and a multitude of dead bats. The eluvian grumbled and screeched against the green tile as it too was shoved forward, denting it in the process.

I scrambled to stand, collecting my wobbly legs and propelling them to move, I clutched onto the eluvian, and with all my strength I heaved my weight into it, I screamed as the heavy golden oculus resisted my nefarious machinations. With one last heave, I pushed it into the bat littered floor and it shattered as if it were glass. The pieces flung everywhere, slicing my face and hands, the twinkling shards then seemed to dissolve, pooling into a clear and shimmering liquid at my feet. I did not wait around to discover what would happen next. My feet pummeled against the same elaborate green tile, I did not know where I was going, and I only knew that in this matter, distance was a friend. It was blur of gold and green, this place, I threw myself into eluvian after eluvian, until I could find something with the semblance of familiarity. I needed to find Dal’nim. She and I could be free of this place. I could contact Iron Bull, we could go to Rivain. The anchor will kill you. A sobering reminder. All hope gained, was lost in an instant. I…could cut it off, but, my eyes glow with its power, its infection could be septic? Oh, what was I going to do? There was so little I knew. My left fizzled and sparked emerald, free of Solas’s control.

I picked eluvians randomly, changing directions at will, his agents stopped and stared, I charged into them, not caring who I knocked over. It seemed that they simply did not know what to do with me. Perhaps, I had even been veiled as a secret from them. In any case their reaction time was cut short, because once I was within eyesight, I was already gone. I stopped to catch my breath, my chest heaving. This labyrinth was endless, eternal even. My palms stuck to my knees as sweat dripped from my face, not only sweat, no, but tears. They poured from my eyes, a deep mournful cry belted from my stomach. My fists clenched into the fabric of my trousers. I had more than likely killed him. No! I couldn’t stop to grieve. I had to leave! I needed to find Dal’nim! Priority reminded me. I stood straight and stepped forward, I nearly tripped as my foot caught the edge of sunken tile.

The tile beneath my feet waned, breaking off and splintering into the damp soil. A large gust nearly wiped me from my feet and howled in my ears, I held on to the fragment of a statue to my right for dear life and my hands slipped against its wet surface. Cool droplets coated my face and hair and I turned to see what commanded such a force. A siege of water surfed upon the wind, upwards, over the edge of the cliff side before me, like a waterfall in reverse. A perpetual haze clung to the air, broken pillars and archways framed this place, half shrouded by the mist. This area felt wrong, like I wasn’t supposed to be here, let alone know of it. Old Oaks careened off the cliff, hanging by their roots, as if they, themselves, wished to be elsewhere. Otherwise, this space was devoid of life, but it did not feel empty. This island in the sky, a mere token of a once larger chain, wasn’t particularly large, its counterparts were scattered elsewhere, dipping into the horizon as black dots. Perhaps it was meant to be forgotten? My eyes completed a wide sweep of the island. There was no other eluvian than the one I emerged from. Was this a dead end? My only hope was in the distance, an area still mysterious, as it was outstanding in comparison to everything else this place offered.

A crypt nearly swallowed by erosion and mist, dwelled behind archways and pillars. My steps were chosen carefully, and I swapped from pillar to pillar leading into it, hanging on with all my might when the windy tsunami blew into me. Perhaps there was an eluvian lurking inside? I looked behind me before entering into this forbidden dwelling of the dead, a chill slithered into my bones, every muscle screaming I turn around, flee from this miserable place. But my desire to escape compelled me to ignore those sensations. Torches blazed upon my entry and I nearly jumped out of my skin, bravery almost forgotten. The braziers illuminated the stairway that descended into the depths of the unknown. My only companions were the buoyant echoes that bounced from my steps. My palms sliding flat along the golden walls, a steady reminder of what surrounded me, solid and strong, I could lean my weight into them without worry.

The braziers ignited as I passed by, this place was slowly drawn back to life. With each step taken, a noise loudened just a bit more, a wailing. Though, it did not originate as the result of the wind that labored against the crypt’s exterior. Odd. The landing of the stairs opened into a single room, it was unremarkable, except for the eluvian placed in the center and an exquisite golden recurve bow and full quiver leaning against it. But this reflection, this swirling picture it painted was not of me, nor was it of the room that sheltered it. I approached it, curiosity luring me in no different than a moth to flame. My fingers brushed its liquid like appearance, causing it to ripple, its image stayed the same. A thrashing figure, whom appeared to be female was tied to a massive tree, yet her head was…distorted. As if she wore some type of gargantuan crown that all but consumed her head. Her screams reached me and a gasp erupted from my throat when realization slammed into me.

Those were arrows. Countless arrows driven into her skull. She seemed to be trapped in unfathomable agony. I could not even see her face, for there were so many. How she managed to still live was …disturbing more than it was remarkable. She was a living pin cushion. She squirmed, her legs twisting in the grass, her head rolled from side to side, searching for a release from the pain and she wailed into the void, a haunting noise that echoed throughout the room. She should die. She deserves to die. It was like watching my mother all over again. I felt sick, what was this horrifying depiction? I was entranced, empathy surging like a rapid. I pulled my dagger from my boot and stepped in, gooseflesh punctuated my skin and my hair stood tall. Wait—

Blue light engulfed the humble room, and the taste of blood pricked at my tongue. I was thrown, a force splitting me from the suffering sight before me and I landed in a heap, limbs locked in place, I was physically held to the floor by an unseen force. The air knocked from my lungs, I found it challenging to breathe, and I stained against the invisible chokehold. The anchor’s light vanished as it was sealed.

“S-Solas!” I winced, air pushing out of my lips with a wheeze.

“Inquisitor, I must thank you.” His voice rang overly cheerful, pulsing with falsehood, his expression read differently. Eyes alit, sharp and unashamedly bright, the blue light trailed him as he turned to face me.

“You were most forthcoming with your intentions for me. I gave you the floor and your performance was…inspiring.” He shook his head, his face embellished with drying blood and dirt. “If my hands weren’t preoccupied with saving you, I would have clapped. A pity that your plan ultimately failed.” His words ending with the cold tone of finality.

I faced my defeat with a retort and growled despite my predicament, “How did it feel to have a mountain fall on you, Solas?” My emotions swirling in an unending whirlpool of despair for my failure and…relief, shameful relief.

“How did it feel? Ask the mountain. Although, you would face a difficult time finding it. I believe as of now, it stands below sea level.” He smirked and faced the eluvian.

He picked up the ostentatious bow and a single arrow from the quiver ruled in shadow, there was a slight shake to his hands, besides his haggard dirt/blood stained face and rock pelted armor, it was the only evidence that hinted at the event that befell him earlier.

“You left me to die when Corypheus besieged Haven! I was YOUR scapegoat! You are nothing but a coward.” The memory, along with rage found me, my mind fumbling with excuses.

“You’ve sacrificed more for the greater good of your cause, have you not? Your rage is misplaced, Vhenan. At one time, you were gladly complicit!" Solas argued, "As I am sure you are starting to remember." "Yes, at one time, I was gladly stupid." I retorted. "I thrived off of your praise alone, the Inquisition taught me I didn't need it."

“Yes, the same Inquisition that now terrorizes Ferelden and the Free Marches, searching for you. How wonderful of a teacher.”

“As were you, if my memory serves me right.” I seethed. “Though, I cannot claim to know what is real anymore.”

His left arm held the bow aloft and he seemed to ignore me, the light from his eyes illuminating its exquisite carvings and jeweled features, I had honestly never seen a bow so beautiful. It looked like it didn’t belong here, like it didn’t belong to this time. Solas nocked an arrow onto it, then to my horror, he took aim at the tortured woman, his right eye closing as he concentrated. He pulled back, deliberate and graceful. The arrow took flight, into the eluvian. I gasped when I heard the impact, I wished I could have covered my ears when her cries of agony hit me. I couldn’t understand how the poor female had any available space left on her head.

“Inquisitor, I must warn you not to wander in this place, for there are areas you may not return from, much like these arrows." He instructed.

“Who is she? What did she do?” I asked panicking, dismissing his warning.

“She numbers among they who killed Mythal. A crime for which an eternity of torment is the only fitting punishment.” He reached for another arrow. “They? Have you more prisoners? Why not kill them?” I reasoned.

“The first of my people do not die so easily, as you can see.” Another arrow flew coupled with another cry of agony. He navigated around my question, I knew not to ask more on the subject. This man had more walls than a gated palace.

“I assume that applies to you as well.” I pried, agitation digging in.

His smirk returned for the briefest of moments, before a deep melancholy was ushered in by his dipped brows and frown. He observed the bow in his hand, his fingers gripping it until his knuckles nearly turned white. “Andruil killed her with this bow. A fine gift, bestowed upon her by Mythal, herself. Yet, it ended in an act of greed, further sullied by lust for blood and power.” His head shook gently and he set the bow down, leaning it against the eluvian.

“When the veil is torn down…wont the Old Gods be freed?” Panic rose in my throat like bile.

“I have plans.” He pulled his hands behind his back and watched the suffering Andruil before him, eyes glassy and reflecting the writhing figure in his view.

“I-I didn’t think you were…I never thought you were capable of-“ I stuttered, the weight of his words plunging me into a deep ocean of fear. Did he imprison the other Old Gods in their own chambers of agony? Just who was Fen’Harel?

Andruils anguished cries bled through the eluvian, and staring into it was a God in the figure of a man whose eyes were gleaming with pride.

Last line credit goes to my friend AYSIA

Yeah I realize its not done. Like there needs to be a flashback for the opening yada yada.

#solas dragon age #solas romance #solas x lavellan #solavellan #dragon age fanfic #solas fanfic #angst #solas angst #torture #moon'hwa lavellan #the heretic #post trespasser

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diagk · 6 years

Text

Unexpected.

Chapter 24 –> Before we say goodbye.

AU fanfic featuring Solas/Dread Wolf. After the Trespasser events Solas walks through the eluvian only to find himself thrown into the modern-time England. Year 2016. Yup. That’s it.

First Chapter: Read here or on my AO3 account; Read Chapter 24 on AO3

“Merde, am I doing it wrong again?” I asked frustrated after another attempt to withhold my emotions.

Solas sighed but I saw a pleasant smile dancing on his lips.

“No, this requires a lot of patience and practice and you barely have started. You’re doing well.” He pondered a moment. “Maybe… if you would’ve concentrated on a… less emotional topic you’d find the practice easier?” He suggested.

I hummed. “Ok, let’s try that.”

A tilt of his head to one side and a smirk on his lips. “Ask me questions then.”

Ah, so he agreed to my earlier request. Good. What should I ask him? What I really want to know?

“Keep your emotions close though,” he whispered leaning towards me.

Damn. Ok, I can do this.

“Will you tell Morrigan about Flemeth?”

A flash of surprise crossed his face. So, he did not expect me to ask difficult questions then.

He cleared his throat before answering. “One day… I will.”

“What will you tell her?”

He averted his eyes as if not wanting me to see the guilt and pain. “It would be pointless to deny the past. She would know sooner or later. And I need her as ally, so...” He trailed off still not meeting my gaze.

“You’re afraid of how furious she will be? About her reaction of you killing Flemeth?”

“I did no such thing!” He bristled. “It saved her-in the transition. Since her host was not ready she needed another one.”

“And somehow it coincided with your own needs,” I retorted evenly.

He met my gaze then. His was cold like ice. “And I would do it again.”

A shiver ran down my spine. How easily it was to forget who he really was. About his past and future plans. About his pain and persistent way to meet his goals.

“She was your friend. Your falon.”

“She still is,” he admitted. “I hope.”

“Do you think Morrigan will be a good vessel for her?” The coldness in his eyes melted slightly. “I do hope so. It’s not for me to judge. I just hope she’ll carry Mythal with pride and respect she deserves.”

I pang of jealousy hit me but I focused on keeping it close to me. It was irrational to be jealous of an old friend. They have known each other for thousands of years; they shared a common goal before she was murdered; and they supported each other against all odds.

Solas was looking at me closely as if trying to decipher my reactions. The slight crease on his forehead meant that he could not discern them properly. So, the change to a topic I was not so attached was beneficial to my training. Maybe, I should push my luck and ask another question.

“Will you lose your powers if you transfer Mythal’s spirit to Morrigan?”

He laughed. “Not really. I’ve been regaining my own since I woke up. It has been accelerated since I carried Mythal with me, that’s true, but I have enough of my own to carry out my plans.” He smirked and then leaned towards me again. “And if I had found another orb… well-that would be beneficial as well.”

I opened my mouth to fire another question but got frozen on the spot. Another orb? That-bastard! He knew where another one was… or he had already found one!

Looking at his relaxed form sitting cross-legged on the plush carpet in my living room, smile and mischief dancing on his lips, I realised just how little I really knew about him. I got swayed by my own emotions and desires. By what I could see without looking at him. Dismissing everything there was to know about him right there in front of me. And I thought I was clever. Such a foolish girl. Master of manipulation and a brilliant strategist. That what he was. And is. He does not stop using everything and everyone to reach his own goal. Fight the battles you can win and do nothing that would not further your goals, right?

I groaned frustrated at myself and him. Solas noticed my state of distress as I did not try to hide it and he was at my side instantly. His arms around me.

“What’s wrong, ma lath?”

I turned to him; anger colouring my voice. “You. You play and trick people all the time. You do it subconsciously even without trying. It’s the skill you mastered and use all the time.”

His hands stopped caressing my back and he leant away to meet my gaze.

“You think I have tricked you into this?” His mask dropped and I could see and feel his pain and hurt. “Do you?” He repeated quietly.

“No,” I admitted averting my eyes. “But you cannot blame me for thinking that.”

“No, I cannot. Actually, you know so much of me that sometimes I wonder why you let me live.”

I met his eyes. More blue than this morning. He was serious with that question. Oh well…

“Because… as I said before… I have a penchant for broody, sexy, and dangerous elves?” I smiled timidly.

He shook his head. “Ar lath ma vhenan.”

And then I could feel a warm blanket of energy covering me and spreading through my body. Reaching every inch of it and caressing with tender movements against my skin.

“You’re crafty with magic,” I admitted against the crook of his neck when he pulled me to him. He chuckled.

“Magic has its uses. And you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

We sat there holding each other in a comfortable silence. The time was ticking slowly and I could feel it seeping through my fingers. Tick-tock.

“May I ask another question?” He hummed in response. “What do you think of Cullen?”

He chuckled. “Cullen? Hmm… I find him being an excellent commander and a good person. Why do you ask?”

“Well… I got them together. Daeva and Cullen,” I admitted smugly. “And she married him.” I resolved myself to caress his collarbones as far as his a few-buttons-open shirt allowed me. His hands were at my back.

His chuckling reverbed through his body. “I forget too often how involved you have been in all this.”

“Oh?” I leaned back to look at him. Soft smirk at the corner of his mouth told me he was jesting. “You really shouldn’t, as you have no idea how much I wanted Cullen since his early days as a Templar.”

His eyes turned into slits. Ohhh, jealous. One for me.

Tick-tock.

“Since his early days?” He asked confused. “How?”

I laughed. “I forget that you don’t know that he appeared in Origins.” His eyebrows drew lower in confusion and suspicion. That earned him an eye roll from me. “In the first game of the series of Dragon Age, and yes, there were three of them, Cullen is a young Templar in a Circle of Magi. And,” I raised a finger at him then traced it across his lower lip, “if you play as a female Mage you start at that Circle and he is infatuated with you. So…” I shrugged.

“You played as a female Mage then.” He stated evenly only slightly distracted by my touch.

“Ha!” I snorted still tracing his lips. My eyes followed the slow movements. Yet, he seemed unfazed. “I have played every origin and scenario possible on this one.”

He caught my finger with his teeth. When he met my gaze he released it only to ask, “Every scenario? How many there were?”

“Plenty, mon chèr. You could be human, elf or dwarf. And of different background. I like that one with a City Elf who has her arranged wedding interrupted. And then she meets a charming assassin who wins his way to her heart.” I sighed.

He moved his hands tighter around me. The look of possessiveness was not absent from his gaze. Also, his jaw tighten slightly. I smiled at him innocently. I loved to rile him up. He liked to play his games so… I have every right to play my own.

“An assassin?” He inquired in a whisper.

“The one who took over the Antivan Crows. If… he’s still alive,” I admitted.

He sighed and moved his gaze to one side. Then he chuckled before meeting my gaze again. “Ah, this Crow.”

I beamed. “Oh, so Zevran is still alive! Yes!”

His nostrils flared and his fingers splayed on my back in a more possessive manner. “Yes, he is. For the moment.”

“Jealously does not suit you, Solas,” I admitted looking at him.

“Jealousy, as you find, is a new concept to me, ma lath.”

I leaned closer, only an inch from his slightly parted lips. “You have nothing to worry about, mon Loup. You’re the only broody elf I want.”

He rolled us over so I got under him. “Say it again,” he whispered against my lips. His voice raspy and needy.

I giggled while raking my nails gently against his scalp. “I want only you. I may tease you all way to Ferelden and back but… all I want is you, Solas.”

He groaned and claimed my lips with a searing kiss.

“Ma vhenan, I don’t mind you teasing me as long as I know I’m the one to warm your bed at night,” he moved a stray of hair off my face. “I love you beyond reason or understanding. I need you. As I need to breathe. Don’t forget that.”

I caressed his cheek and his ear to which he half closed his eyes. “I know. And I need you too, Solas.”

He chuckled. His gaze dark and focused. “I want to bind myself to you, Nehn. With all I have.”

I laughed but stopped at his serious expression. “What do you mean?”

He slowly caressed my cheek. “There’s no wedding ceremony between the Elvhen. When we wish to be bound to someone it is usually for life and only requires one’s willingness to do so. It has to be spoken though. And… I wish to bind myself to you, ma vhenan.”

This was not to be taken lightly. I knew that. And yet, as I was laying beneath him, comforted by the warmth of his body and soft caresses of his hand, I failed to realise the meaning behind those words. I should have known better. I should have reacted right then... but I did not. I was content and satisfied and drunk on happiness of simply being with him.

“Why… why would you do this?”

He smiled. His fingers trailing against my right cheek and ear. “Because I love you. If you have not noticed before… I have fallen in love with you from the start. I tried to supress it and deny it. Tried to keep you safe but-“ he sighed, “the Fate does want us to stay together. You know this, my love. Sometimes, I feel like I was pulled here so I could meet you. You’re my solution and more.”

“Solution?” Oh, for sake. Was I only his solution to the war and incoming battles? Wake up, Solas! I yelled in my mind.

“No, maybe I phrased it incorrectly,” he admitted averting his gaze for a moment.” You’re the one I need to help me see other ways. Your insight is more extensive than mine.”

I chuckled. “That’s one way to say that.”

We smiled at each other. Gosh, he was so- I sighed. His blue-grey eyes bore into mine and I could only sink into them. ‘Festis bei umo canaverun’-He’ll be the death of me. If I allowed him to. But it was not such a bad thing according to Fenris, right?

“You're being grim and fatalistic in the hope of getting me into bed, aren't you?” I joked hoping he would get the hint. Or not. Or maybe I was just testing things.

“I am grim and fatalistic. Getting you into bed is just an enjoyable side benefit.”

I melted and rolled my eyes. Which earned a raised eyebrow from him. I laughed. Gosh, how different and the same this was from the game? Oh my. I needed him in my bed. Oh yeah.

“Then maybe we should move into the bedroom. Before we are invaded by John and Daniel tomorrow?” I proposed. His smile was only lesser than a rising sun.

“Yes. That’s a good idea. Especially for what I want to do to you,” he whispered in my ear while leading me upstairs.

I swallowed hard only slightly anticipating the things he wanted to do. With his mouth. Tongue. Fingers. Legs. And magic.

“I know. I just don’t want to.” Maya’s voice got shaky and she looked aside. She was back at the job even with her arm in a sling; resolved to do at least some basic tasks around the house. Which meant confining herself mostly to the kitchen while her older sister was cleaning the rest of the house. I knew that leaving her in charge would be good for the house. John approved as well. I think he secretly enjoyed her stubbornness and bossiness even if he would not admit it. Ever.

“Maya, it’s just I want you to stay here with your family and whoever you feel you need, so the household is kept clean and in decent state. Any issues which may arise you’d need to forward to John who is to take the legal guardianship of the place. And if anything else fails then there’s Daniel,” I pointed at my solicitor who smiled at Maya reassuringly, “whom you can approach with any questions.”

“It’s not the same as having you around, Miss Emily,” she pointed out.

“I know,” I admitted. “But this is the way things are going to be right now. You have every right to exercise the proper behaviour from any visitors from now on, and even ask them to leave the place if you feel they do not behave. I leave you in charge. Your daughter is to have the guest house to herself to use at her own leisure as long as she pursues her education. Also, her expenses and tuition fee is to be paid under the supervision of Mr Stewart.” I nodded towards John who was sitting quietly on a stool.

I decided to have the final meeting and dispose of my assets giving the last minute instructions to the people I cared most. I was leaving the estate and all I had in the capable hands of John with Daniel Stouts acting a solicitor, which he was doing for the last 40 years. Well, at least his company, so I felt my affairs were in good hands. And John was fine with Daniel to act as a legal representative. It looked less like he was to gain anything from the trade. Which he was in truth but knowing his disposition I knew this was the simplest and more rational way to approach to leaving him all my funds. Which he had no idea of. Until an hour ago when I showed him my account. Well, one of them. He sighed and agreed for Daniel to keep his hands on that. Surprisingly, he did not turned away the offer to have his sister’s expenses covered if she ever considered to pursue higher education.

Two hours later and we were still sitting in my kitchen. Daniel was on his way back to London to make sure all the papers were corrected before sent for the final approval. John hunching over the kitchen isle; a tumbler with whiskey in his hand and a sad smile on his lips.

“Damn, I have never thought of losing you that way,” he admitted quietly.

I sighed. “I have never thought of leaving this way either,” I admitted.

Maya was supervising Solas who was kneading the dough for the bread. And she regaled him with another folk story about ghosts visiting the local cemetery once every fortnight. I rolled my eyes while glancing appreciatively at him clothed in blue jeans and tight white t-shirt. It might have something to do with my remembering him without them actually. Well, the memories of last night still lingered on my mind and body. I tried to reign a pleasant shudder at the thought of him- ohh, nope, stop. I inhaled deeply before turning my attention back to John.

He needed a refill. And since he was to stay overnight I did not see a problem to get him drunk and relaxed. His job, whatever exactly it was, did not allow him to get too much of a relaxing time anyway. So here, maybe from time to time, he would. I hoped.

I placed a new tumbler in front of him and started sipping my own. The clink of ice cubes against the glass made John to look at me. “You’re sure about this?”

I sighed. He did deserve the truth. “I am,” I looked straight into his eyes saying that. He closed his for a moment before grabbing his drink and emptying it in one go. Oh well, more whiskey for him then.

“I know I have asked this before but… are you’re certain of him? You know, the things he can do... I’m sure he’s dangerous and such… I really think you may... Maybe you could reconsider?” The hope in his eyes clenched my heart.

“John, as much as I don’t want to leave, it’s-” I sighed, “he won’t leave without me. I have explained that to you. He needs to leave and help his people.”

“God, Joy. They are only fictional people. And he is only-“ he gestured towards Solas trying to articulate the thought which had crossed my mind several times in the past.

Not real. A fictional person. From a video game. And yet, he was there, kneading the dough and talking to my housekeeper. How come?

“I know, John. It took me a while to comprehend it myself. Maybe, if we believe that something or someone is real they become real?” One of the ice cubes in my drink cracked. Tick-tock. Bottoms up it seems. “He’s real as much as I’m real. Take it or don’t. But I believe this.”

John was quiet for a moment. I refilled our glasses.

“Did he have to do anything with Maya’s recovery?”

“Why do you ask?”

He sighed. “Because the doctors were mildly confused of how quickly she recovered. Look, it’s been only two weeks and they took the cast off. It’s not what I would called normal.”

“Oh, well. Maybe a bit. He volunteered though,” I raised a finger to make a point.

“He would do anything for you, Joy. It’s clear to me. Even if he tries his best to hide how much he cares.” A smile appeared on his face. Maybe the first one tonight. Hope, it wasn’t the last one.

He was sitting quietly on the sofa holding a book in his hand and balancing the iPad on his thigh. Clearly engrossed in reading and finding references on the internet. Or, that’s what I have been convinced of for the last half an hour when I joined him in the otherwise quiet library.

“Why Cullen?” His question broke the comfortable silence.

I looked at him. “Why not?” I retorted.

A long sigh. “But why specifically him? You could have chosen anybody else, so why him?”

I snorted. “Are we really going to have this conversation?” It seems that ‘yes’ as his gaze was serious. Alright then.

“Well, I played as a female human from the circle of Magi. It was actually unusual for me as I tend to play as a male warrior or rogue first. But I guess I wanted a change. As far as to choose whom to romance… it was simply a matter of Cullen being sweet and dorky at some point. And… a bit of awkward with his stuttering and shyness. Still - more mature than in Origins,” I admitted thoughtfully.

“But shouldn’t you, as a Mage, be afraid of a Templar?”

“Why? I personally do not have any negative experience with Templars.”

“True. But as you… played as a Mage maybe you should consider her point of view?”

“Solas, I don’t think that at that time I was aware that Daeva is actually real, you know? I played this way for fun. Besides, I was curious on how their relationship would progress.”

He hummed. I waited for several moments before continuing.

“Well, I could not romance you, so my options were limited.” I announced coyly to which he chuckled. “As Deava is into men then I had options of Cullen, Blackwall or Bull.”

He hummed again. “I see. That certainly explains a lot.”

I raised from my chair and went to sit next to him on the sofa. He put the book and iPad on the side table and pulled me into his arms.

“Why didn’t you try to romance me?” He asked after a while.

“Well… because you were not available for humans. I mean for a female human Inquisitor. Only an elf.”

“Ah, so that’s why all the videos I’ve watched are with a Lavellan?”

“Yes. The game makers decided that if you were to romance anyone she’s to be a female elf. That’s it.” I leaned back to look at him. Suddenly I started laughing.

“I admit I fail to understand the reason for your sudden outburst,” he commented on my behaviour. His arms were holding me although I was laughing very hard.

“Because… imagine their faces if they could see us now! You have fallen for a human after all!”

He chuckled as I hid under his chin. “That’s-indeed- well… I suppose none of them could have predicted me meeting you.”

I calmed down after a while. His hand was caressing my back. It was nice, to sit with him, relaxed and happy, talking about normal things and forgetting about the future for a while. Breathing in his unique scent I squeezed him.

“Oh? You’re happy it seems. The vibes you’re sending me are really strong and warm, vhenan.”

“That’s because I am happy. At least for the moment.”

His hold on me got tighter. I could feel his regular breathing reverberated through me and his calmness washing over me. He must also be enjoying the quiet before the storm, as we both knew it was just a question of time.

Time we did not have.

This morning I woke up, limbs entangled with his own, my head on his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat, and I realised that I knew how to make the mirror work. I have known about it for some time, yet I did not realise that.

But I was scared to tell him. Scared that we were going to lose the last moments of peace and quiet and, as stupid as it sounded, I wanted to keep him here for a while longer. Even if I knew it could not be forever.

As my thoughts got darker, his hands held me tighter. He hummed into my hair which sounded more like a question.

“No, it’s nothing Solas. I’m thinking about all of it... and I’m a bit overwhelmed. But I’ll be fine.” I didn’t know who I was trying to convince, him or me, but I knew that it was not actually working.

“Something is bothering you,” he stated calmly.

“Maybe.” I admitted reluctantly.

He sighed. “Vhenan. I can feel that something is bothering you. Tell me.”

I didn’t want to and yet… I knew I had no choice.

“I know how to activate the mirror,” I whispered.

His whole body went rigid and his hands stopped their movements. He left a ragged breath as if fighting with himself. “How?” He whispered back.

#unexpected fanfic #my writing #writing #solas #emily joy cooper #modern au

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fadekhat-blog · 7 years

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Prompt for you! While out in the Hissing Wastes, our band (non-mage Lavellan, Solas, and any two others of your choosing) tangles with the Venatori. The Inquisitor gets separated from the rest and spirited away. While captured, she's forced asleep and a Venatori dreamer goes about trying to break her mind in the Fade (in whatever way you choose). Unpleasantness ensues. There's a daring rescue. Then recovery. Or something. I'm never sure if I'm doing prompts right! Cheers!

That prompt is incredible, thank you! I’ve never written a non-mage Lavellan, so I’ll use my original Inquisitor Revanelan (Elana) sans magic as a stand in - let’s say she’s an archer. Not having magic definitely adds something to the scenario… This might be more than you signed up for, but I got pretty into it XD @dadrunkwriting

“Such a pity. To think, the elven empire was once impenetrable. Your people possessed magic beyond our wildest imaginations, immortality they say, and you are reduced to this. Sticks and stones will not save you,” the woman said, gesturing to my quiver of arrows with disdain.

She didn’t have to introduce herself. It was Mythal, I simply knew. Whatever doubts I once had fled my mind in an instant. My vallaslin, her vallaslin, seemed to dance upon my skin.

The all mother was beautiful - not in a covetous way, though every mother has a sensuous side, but in a way that was love given form. Her face was the face of everyone who had ever touched my heart, a shifting, flickering mirage of familiarity.

Every part of me wanted to please her, to make her sacrifice worthwhile.

“They can do more than you would think,” I said into my chest, explaining myself.

“And yet what do you have, really? Who are you, really? An elf from the wilds who mouths the words of the Chantry’s god. Your lies are written on your face. Do you think you’re human? A person rather?”

“I, what? No.” I said, my tongue unsure which question to answer. “I’m just trying to help them. The breach endangers us all. Mythal’enaste.”

I bowed my head, moving my hands in a clumsy sign of reverence as my keeper once taught me, but Mythal struck out at me, shattering my gesture of piety with a single blow.

“You will get no such thing,” she said with a sneer. “Not when you serve shemlen gods. Wear their colors, live in their halls.”

The slur sounded wrong on her tongue, but I couldn’t say why. My cheeks burned beneath the gnarled scar across my brow and my mouth moved wordlessly.

Suddenly every piece of my red and gold armor felt like an accusation.

“I don’t serve their Maker! I’m only trying to help,” I cried out, anger at myself and at them sparking in my chest.

“But you don’t serve me either,” she said, swooping in so that her perfect nose nearly brushed mine. “You don’t even believe in me.”

“That - that’s not true.”

“I don’t deserve it,’ you think. ‘What goddess would let her people suffer like this,’ you think. ‘One that is either impotent or indifferent.”

Her fingers traced the curve of my jaw as she spoke, and it seemed as if my thoughts echoed around us.

Well aren’t you?

How do I even know this is real? You’ve never bothered speaking to us before now.

I gasped, as if to inhale my words, but I couldn’t stop them. They came not from my lips but from my mind itself.

“Ah, but you forget you were gifted the freedom with which to fail yourselves. It is you that has failed me, child.”

Suddenly I was on my knees. She loomed over me, at once a goddess and a horror, a parent and an executioner.

“I haven’t…” I said. Part of me strained to turn away, to run, but I found myself enveloped in the sticky slowness of dreams. My will was not enough for my body, and I couldn’t bare to look at her any longer.

“Where is your clan?”

“In the Free Marches.”

“Where in the Free Marches?”

“Wy-Wycombe.”

“Why?”

“Because we sent them there. To protect the people - and the city elves. They would’ve been slaughtered without our intervention.”

Her slap rang out like a thunderclap, and suddenly I was thrown up against the ruins of a wall. The remains of an old temple hung around us, the leafless tree of Mythal depicted in colored glass at its center.

“The tree of your people is dying. You are but a lifeless leaf, an arcane warrior born without magic. A single spasm in the death throes of your kind. But you may still serve me.”

I stared into the broken stones that littered the ground, unable to focus on even a single blade of grass, but my mind answered for me.

How?

“Set. Them. Free.”

Her voice was all around me, formless.

“Rip the breach open, let the Fade rain from the sky. Allow Thedas to be realm of true magic once again. There, even you will not be worthless.”

I struggled to speak, to breath. My logic was slow, otherwordly. Her words wound through my mind like muck through a dead river.

“Slave,” she hissed.

There was a flash of pain and light, and then I was running. Roots and branches flew past me, all that was beyond consumed with shadows as my feet carried me forward.

I fled not by moving my legs, but my wishing they’d move. It was small difference, but it was there.

Then I was in a clearing. I was small, and Arlathae was pinned beneath a bear of a man, her left leg crushed into a mass of bone and meat.

“Leave her alone,” I stuttered, but my bow fine longbow was gone. In its place was a silly thing of twisted wood and string, practically a child’s toy.

He didn’t hear me, or simply laughed, and yet the scene didn’t seem to move.

I had a single arrow, I realized in an instant. I grabbed it at the hilt, like a dagger, and plunged it into his neck. Then he was on me, and Arlathae was screaming with rage and pain and I stabbed him over and over again. My hands moved by their own will, a memory of what was already done.

A blade tore across my face, maiming me once, and then again. The moment seemed to skip and pass over itself - at once we were fighting him, but also we were slipping away from camp, and then we were looking down at a corpse, unable to put a name to what we had done.

We won’t return to camp until we have our first kill, we’d promised ourselves. We’d meant a deer.

I saw the arrow in his eyes, once, twice. The blood trailing down his cheek as he finally died beneath me.

“The Fade will fall on them,” a voice whispered from on high.

I rose to speak and the painful light flashed again.

I was on a battlefield, or what I once considered one. The charred corpse of a human militia simmered around me. I’d pushed her - it was Arlathae’s magic, and yet we had both watched them die. Willed it.

If anything, my only regret then was that I had not been able to flay them myself. That my clan had to flee yet again.

“But you will.”

“You will be something.”

“Not a puppet, not a tool.”

“A weapon, a messiah of your people.”

“They will burn, or you will.”

The voices came as if from within me, filling my head as a final flash of blistering light engulfed my vision, bathing me in fire.

And then I was fire. Without and within me, all I could see is flame. My companions stood around me in a circle, and beyond them the masses watched me burn.

“You’ve done all you could,” Cassandra said, “But heathens must be cleansed from this world.”

I screamed and screamed and felt my skin strip away until there was only anchor and bone.

“It will make a nice relic, I think,” Dorian said.

Their every word felt like a dagger beneath my nails. Not in a metaphorical sense - every syllable was punctuated by visceral pain. I wasn’t a person then, but a gaping wound. An unwanted feeling.

“It would be helping to end it,” Cole mused beneath his hat.

“Creatures like her do not deserve compassion, Cole,” Solas said, stepping into the circle with an air of cool certainly. “They know nothing of this world, or what came before.”

When he touched me, the world was at once made of ice.

“You are nothing,” he said into my lips.

Not you.

And then he was smoke, and a second Solas stepped through him.

We were in a windowless cell, somewhere deep underground. I sat up on a wooden bench and my feet brushed the body of a masked Venatori mage.

“Are you okay, ma vhenan?” He moved to touch my arm and I flinched away, the bright pain flashing in my mind.

He said something else, but I didn’t hear him. It was all coming back.

There hadn’t been many of them - just enough Venatori to take out our party with the element of surprise. I had been left standing amidst a circle of my fallen allies wishing, hardly for the first time, that I possessed the barest spark of magic necessary to heal another’s wounds.

Then there was darkness, and light, and darkness again as they pulled me in and out of consciousness, transporting me. There was pain, both real and imagined, and I was covered in scars I didn’t recognize.

Battered, but alive then.

“Are they gone?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

“For now, yes,” Solas said, his eyes pained. “Did they say what they wanted?”

My hands shook, and I kept my distance, shifting over on the bench so he could join me.

“Well, the anchor, of course. He, they, whoever, said I should bring the sky down…”

“For the good of our people,” Solas finished, shifting closer.

“I, yes. But how did you know that?” I asked, a chill kissing my bones.

“It is no small thing to hold such power,” he mused. “I suppose you have never considered what else you might do with the anchor?”

“What else? There is nothing else. We close the breach.”

He laughed softly, shaking his head as he took my hand.

“That is one option. Imagine what we could do together, Elana. With the anchor, we are equals.”

Almost, hung in the air, an unspoken truth.

“You’ve never talked this before. Why is the fate of the elves suddenly so important to you?”

We’re not your people, remember?

He teeth glittered in the darkness as lazy haze of magic rose from his fingertips as he stroked my skin around the anchor. Once again, I was curiously unable, or unwilling, to move.

“Say you’ll do it, for me?”

“For you?” I repeated, in a trance.

“Say it.” His fingers dug into my palm, forcing their way into the strange in-between of the anchor. It flared, turning my arm into a shrieking claw.

“I…”

Was in a cave.

Cole was hunched before me, his form faint, quivering.

“I found you,” he said weakly. “I ran ahead. I felt you crying. Your mother dead, a bear in the woods… only it’s not really a bear, is it?”

“Cole,” I exhaled his name as I fell into him. “Cole, please, just get me out here.”

His arms encircled me, always cooler than you’d expect, as he spoke into my neck.

“But I need help now,” he said, voice hushed.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I’m unraveling, unbeing before your eyes. Can’t you see it? Will you help me? If the Fade is now, we will always be together. There will be someone who understands.”

“Say it.” His hands closed around my neck.

Blackwall in a tunnel.

Cassandra in a field.

The Iron Bull on a ship, Dorian by his side.

Sera in a back alley.

Varric in a forgotten bookshop.

Vivienne in an attic.

“Say it, dear.”

I tore into the next moment like a woman possessed. Perhaps I was.

The stars hung above us, distant and utterly imperious in every direction. A shadow stepped toward me, but I knew what was coming.

“I won’t say it. I won’t say it. I don’t care who you are. I won’t bring the sky down.”

The words flew from my lips like bile as I pressed my hands over my ears, blocking out their pleas. I felt them close in on me, a touch on my shoulder sending a lance of pain, or a memory of pain, coursing through me.

“Don’t touch me,” I barked, the spiky lip of a battlement pressing against my back. A fallen sword glittered in the periphery of my vision and I dove toward it, putting the blade between me and my attackers. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

There were three, Cassandra taking point with Solas and Dorian on either side. I was breathing wildly, so fast I could hardly think. The bursts of air through my nostrils nearly drowned out their words, but I could see their faces. Looks of worry masked with attempts at comforting concern.

“It is okay, Inquisitor,” Cassandra said, doing her best to sound soothing. “We’ve removed the Venatori. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

I scoffed, my eyes skittering away from their own.

“That’s what happened before, and that wasn’t real. Not ever,” Running my free hand through my short clipped hair. “Do whatever you want. I won’t say it.”

“Say what?” Dorian asked quietly, stepping closer.

“Nothing, shut up!” I shouted, swinging the sword to underline my point. He stumbled backward, eyes wide with fear layered with the seeds of pity.

“I - of course. It’s okay Elana, you don’t have to tell us anything. Let’s just go home, hm?”

Home, and suddenly I was reminded that they could hear my thoughts.

If I said it, I was theirs’. I could feel it in me, the power behind those words. But what if I only thought what they wanted? Was that enough? Could the Venatori possess me the way they had all those tranquil?

As I thought, I stepped back until my free arm was hooked over the wall. We were on a tower. I looked down onto the cliffs below, the sword always between us.

Could I make the jump?

Did it matter?

“Elana,” Solas said, his voice ever soft.

“You don’t call me that,” I snapped. “And don’t give me any of that shit about ‘our people,’ I know you don’t care. Not about ‘wildings’ anyway.”

“Inquisitor, then,” Solas said, his voice even despite my barrage of insults. “You are correct, what you saw before wasn’t real. The Venatori trapped you in your dreams, but they are not in control now. You’re free.”

“Free. You mean free until the next time I wake up,” I muttered.

“Pay attention to your body. To the way you move - not by will, but by action. That is distinction is unique to the physical world. You are not dreaming any longer, Inquisitor,” he said, as if it were any other conversation in his rotunda.

“Mm,” I said, loosening my grip on the sword. It fell to the ground, clattering harshly against the stone. “This is… real.”

“Exactly,” he said, guiding me forward with an arm that never quite touched my body. He seemed to understand that this was beyond me.

“Come Inquisitor, let us leave this vile place,” Cassandra said, leading us out of the tower.

I saw the corpse of the Venatori mage as we passed. I tried not to think how familiar it looked as we rode for the nearest Inquisition camp.

Instead, I focused on the majesty of the stars above and on the friends close at hand.

“I won’t say it,” I whispered into the wind.

Inspired by my very real and intense fear anytime someone pulls that “Wake up, Fakekhat, just wake up!” style prank - how can you know you’re not a brain in a jar (or a dreamer stuck in the Fade)? You can’t!

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moonlightheretic · 4 years

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WIP Wednesday The Heretic: Chapter Unknown

“You do not need to know.” He answered simply, pulling me to my feet.

“When has any truth of my plans comforted you? Or perhaps, any truth at all? You live, stuck in a halcyon that never existed and you yearn for its return.”

We dove into a thick silence, neither of us giving in. I could almost see him biting his tongue, any remark quelled by fledgling self-control. He took a breath and smiled.

“You evade blame almost as skillfully as you evaded me, ah, but then again, where are you know?” He tilted his head, his left brow raised. “I wonder, what more dances have you that I not discovered yet?”

“I believe it was you who taught me to dance, Solas. I cannot take credit for my skills, when I have the master in front of me.” I gestured to him.

A muscle in his neck twitched and the fire cradled in his fingers strengthened significantly, staining his skin red.

“There is work to be done. Enough.” Even though the fire was causing us both to sweat in this enclosed space, his words were of pure ice.

“We are within the Vimmark Mountains.” He informed, sullen and remorseful, his eyes lingering on the statue.

“Surely, this place has significance.” I argued, playing along, with my eyes following his.

“Indeed.” He whispered.

The next set of actions were to be done without instruction, as they were no different than the times prior. But this time, everything would be different. Hesitation would no longer best me.

So I am not sure where this chapter is going to end up...as in numerically where it will sit. It is not done yet...but it is further along then what I posted. I fear it will be too long to post here in full.

#solavellan #solas romance #solavellen hell #solas x lavellan #solas dragon age #epictragedy #theheretic #moon'hwa lavellan #post trespasser #angst #solas fanfic #daifanfic #solas dragonage #inquisitor

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