Pain ebbed from the Inquisitor's hand and she rose to her knees. The man they'd pursued through countless mirrors, across forgotten corners of Thedas while battling never ending waves of Qunari stood before her. Two years since he ran off leaving her with only questions and an ache in her heart.
Solas picked at the fur across his shoulder and in his soft voice explained, "They sought an agent of Fen'Harel. I'm afraid the truth is much simpler."
"You're Fen'Harel," she whispered, the final piece dropping into place.
"I was Solas first. Fen'Harel came later..."
"No, wait," the Inquisitor interrupted, throwing off Solas' planned speech, "let's go back here. You. You're Fen'Harel? You're telling me you're a god?"
He shook his head, "The Evanuris weren't gods..."
She waved her hand, dispersing his words, "You're god damn Fen'Harel?! Holy shit, you're telling me I fucked a god?"
"Um, yes. Sort of. But not. It's more complicated than that," Solas tried to get her back on track. He had pages to get through quickly.
"More complicated than you putting your ancient, immortal, dread wolf dick in me?"
"I...I wanted to tell you, vhenan. To explain why I must do this, but the timing...forcing such knowledge upon you did not seem fair."
"Oh, sure, why tell me that I'm actually screwing some ancient being from before the fall of Arlathan? I mean, it's not like you could have mentioned something when I was riding you in the library after the Winter Palace ball. No quick 'By the way, I'm the Dread Wolf and could you move a bit to the left?'"
"This is- I understand you're upset, but our time is short. I must tell you..."
The Inquisitor threw her arms wide, stomping around the Vidassala statue and sneering at the sky, "Or when I was sucking you off. Not even a chance to drop the 'be a bit careful, that thing's a few thousand years old' bomb?"
Solas' unnatural calm shattered and he screamed, "I'm the one who created the veil!"
She whipped her head towards him, her mouth falling slack in shock. "Shit..."
Solas nodded, accepting the full weight his words had upon her. She must realize that he was the one who destroyed the elves, and in trying to free them from powerful mages who would be gods pushed them back into slavery at the hands of Tevinter.
"How could I forget?"
"Excuse me?" Solas shook his head, trying to follow along her trail of thought.
"'Where did you learn that?'" she said, mimicking her own voice, then switched to Solas', "'One of many tricks I picked up exploring the fade?' You, dickhead. What, was that a favorite move you used on Andruil? Maybe during a little threesome action with Ghilan'nain and a couple halla?"
"I never would have..." Solas stuttered, a blush of rage flaring across his ancient skin, "that is not what occurred! I was never one of the Evanuris. The name Fen'Harel was a..."
Again she interrupted him, "How the shit am I going to return to my clan now? Hey, those statues we put out to ward off spirits, yeah, I fucked one. Not the statue, the god. Funny thing though, for being the Dread Wolf he's not a big fan of doggy style."
"Ah yes, the Dalish," Solas said, clinging to any topic that wasn't sex," What do your people say? 'May the Dread Wolf take you?'"
"I'm surprised you don't yell that before coming," she sneered.
"This is not the time," Solas cut back.
"How'd you like it if I told you, guess what? I'm actually Andraste. I was the whole time. Fooled you!"
The ancient elf who wouldn't be a god twisted his head, trying to shake away her words. "That's not possible. Andraste was not an elf."
"And Mythal wasn't a human. Seemed fitting right, for the human prophet to come back in the body of an elf. How do you like that, Solas? I was the herald of myself the whole time," she said flaring her fingers for emphasis.
Out of the mirror behind him, two heads appeared. Both elves twisted to their boss, but he held a hand out. "Another minute, please."
"Who knew the god of mischief, Fen'Harel himself, loves having his taint licked?" the Inquisitor shouted.
A burn of rage and embarrassment crawled up Solas' cold neck. Without saying a word, the mirror's surface rippled and flared as both servants vanished back to wherever he intended to run. "You must listen to me," Solas pleaded, then quickly tacked on, "And don't bring up our sexual past anymore." The Inquisitor folded her arms, glaring at him, but didn't say a word.
"Thank you," Solas said, grateful for the chance but then he paused. His eyes danced around, "I've forgotten what I had to say next."
"Was it about how Falon'Din got you into biting or were you saving it all up for Elgarnon?"
"I'm going to destroy the world," Solas shouted in one breath, "to rebuild it for our people. I will tear down the veil itself which is what I intended with Corypheus. There's nothing you can do to stop me."
Her arms didn't unfold, nor did she speak. All the Inquisitor did was continue to glare, her lips curled up in a sneer.
"Are you not going to say something?"
She blinked rapidly, "On the list of surprising shit today, finding out you plan to destroy the world ranks somewhere around Orlesians having a breakfast nook for every day of the year. And way way below I fucked Fen'Harel."
Solas glanced back towards the mirror still shimmering as if someone was pressed against the other end, listening intently to their conversation. "We are out of time," he said, the mark flaring back to life across the Inquisitor's hand. She doubled over in pain, clutching it tightly, but wasn't easily cowed by her own skin shredding apart.
"Don't think you can get AAHHH! out of this!"
Solas reached for her hand, but she kept evading him, not about to let him off that easy. Sighing, he glanced to the mirror, then back at the anchor about to explode. "I'm sorry, but I have to go. Here," he tossed a blade at her feet, "use it to cut your hand off before it kills you. Which it will, soon."
Her fingers shaking, she picked up the dagger's hilt and dug in tight. Solas turned from her towards the mirror, but her voice, ragged with pain, shouted out, "Of course I don't just have an ex-boyfriend that plans on destroying the world, no, no. AAAAHHHH!" The blade sliced through her flesh, sticking in the bone. Gritting her teeth, she gave it another whack. "He has to be a god damn god, too!" The broken anchor and her arm thudded to ground. She wadded up the ends of her sleeve to stymie the blood gushing down her jagged bone. Solas paused at the mirror, as if he intended to run back to her. But he shook his head, unable to face her and returned to his plan. Her final words ran in Solas' ears, "I have the WORST taste in men!"