Chapter 1: Choices

It was getting more and more difficult to stay awake. Once, Solas would have welcomed sleep with open arms, would have spent the hours exploring the world of dreamers and spirits, conversing with old friends that he felt more of a kinship with than the people in the waking world. Now there was nothing there when he slept. His friends - spirits of Wisdom, Purpose, Valor – had been corrupted when the Veil had torn the skies apart before it had vanished entirely. The companions he had gotten to know and fought beside in the waking world had not fared much better, and all of it was the fault of the Elder One.
No, his foggy mind reminded him. He may not have been the one to tear open the veil, may not have been the one who caused the explosion at the Conclave, may not have been the one to massacre the people of Thedas, but whether directly or indirectly, the fault was his.

And the death that hurt him the most was the death of Alyn Lavellan.

The Herald of Andraste, they had called the Dalish elf, and she had despised it. She had hated how she had been thrust into events that she'd had no control over; had hated the way Josephine had tried to make her play dress up in front of visiting Nobles who before the mark had appeared on her hand would have taken one look at her and dismissed her as an "elf savage", unworthy of their time.

She had refused the new gear they had provided for her, had stared at the sturdy leather boots with such a peculiar look on her face that it had almost made him laugh, and instead of wearing it she had remained clad in the same tight chainmail underlay, dark blue tunic that reached down her knees, held together with a leather belt, and red scarf that she had worn when she had left her clan all those months ago; much to Josephine's dismay. Despite the reluctance of accepting the title and the gear however, she had not been ignorant to the larger threat that loomed over them and had remained focused on the arduous task of stopping it. Of stopping his mistake, a fact she had not known.

"I'm not dressing up so that the humans can have an easier time accepting me," she had scoffed one evening as they were both sat in front of the fireplace in his small cabin at Haven, having had yet another debate about the history and lore of the elvhen.

It had become a nightly ritual for months; her visiting him, listening to his stories and writing them down in an overly fancy, leather bound journal that she had requested from Josephine. The Ambassador had apparently been so overjoyed that the Dalish elf had requested anything from her that she had sent for the journal from a ridiculously fancy shop in Orlais. "If Dalish lore is wrong, then I will make sure that we get it right," the mage had told him when her visits had first started before she had sat down on the floor, opened the - back then - blank journal and looked at him expectantly with her sky blue eyes. Listening had not meant that she accepted his stories without debate however, and he had found himself enjoying her questions as she poked and prodded at his information, trying to see if they were as real and true as he claimed them to be.

"You may not have a choice in the matter," he had replied carefully. "The Inquisition is still in its infancy and will need all the help it can get. Playing by the human Nobles' rules would make it easier to get their support."

That had earned him another scoff.

"The Breach should be their biggest concern, not whether or not I choose to play a part so that their fragile egos can have an easier time accepting that an elf holds the key to closing it," she had snapped, slamming her journal shut and placing it next to her before running a hand over her chin length dark brown hair as she stared into the fire. She had been angry, not at him, but at the events that had played out during their visit to Val Royeaux earlier that day. "Besides, everyone has a choice."

"Choices are easy to make, living with the consequences of our decisions is the difficult part."
He of all people knew what that felt like. After all, the consequence of his latest ill-fated decision was in plain sight on Alyn's hand. Not that it would stop his plans; he still had a mission and would still go through with it once his orb was returned to him. His statement had made her gaze shift to him and she stared at him so intensely, it was as if she was trying to read his mind. She had done that often lately, especially since they had grown closer, and he had wondered if she would one day see through his deception and lies. He had returned the stare before he had cleared his throat and smiled.

"No matter what the humans might think of you, they certainly cannot deny seeing your indomitable focus hard at work."

She had snorted at that, a soft chuckle escaping her lips.

"I doubt they would find the sight of it being dominated as fascinating as you would, Solas," she had retorted, returning to stare at the fire with a smile on her lips.

The flirting had been a mistake. From the moment it had begun he knew that it had been a bad idea, a bad decision, but he had made no attempts at stopping it. Instead he had relished the way her cheeks had turned a soft shade of pink when it had first happened, had enjoyed the warm feelings that filled him when she had responded in kind. It had meant nothing of course, or so he had told himself as the comments and playful banters continued over weeks that turned into months. It would change nothing, he had kept telling himself as he had remained focused on his main goal.

Then she had died, nothing remaining of her body but ashes, and he had realised that she had changed everything.

His heart still ached as he thought of her, even though it had been a year since her death, and knowing that it was his decisions that had indirectly caused it cut him the most. He had been a fool, in more ways than one, and now he lived with the consequences of all of his decisions, the burden of what his pride had wrought lying heavy on his shoulders. He deserved the cage he was trapped in, deserved the red lyrium poisoning that slowly ate at his body and mind. He deserved fates even worse than this, yet he could not help but stare down the prison guards that came to his cell once every day to check on the red lyrium's progress, glaring at them through lyrium foggy eyes as he stood tall and refused to let them see his suffering. Rebellious to the very end, as the Dread Wolf would be. Once it had been his greatest pride, now it was his greatest folly.

When he heard the door to the prison cells open for the second time that day he knew that the end would come. He had long wondered if the Venatori would tire of waiting for the lyrium to kill him and end it themselves before they harvested the red crystals from his corpse. From what he had overheard them say in the past he was one of the last prisoners who remained alive, and the Elder One had little patience when it came to his precious red lyrium.
Standing with his back towards his cell door he heard their footsteps as they entered the room, heard the door to his cell open, and he took a deep breath as he readied himself for the end before he turned around, only to jerk back in shock. Alyn was standing in front of him, alive and well and blue eyes looking at him with a deep concern he knew he did not deserve. Dorian, who they had all thought to have perished with Alyn a year earlier, was standing next to her and Solas blinked once, twice before he accepted that they were not illusions.

"You're alive? We saw you die!" His voice was dry and weak and he couldn't hide the way it cracked as he stared at the elven woman.

It was the Tevinter who answered him, explaining that Alexius' time magic had not killed them but had moved them forward in time. Solas' mind spun as it digested the information, working faster than it had in months. Displacement, not death; a second chance at saving the world from his folly.

"Can you reverse the process? You could return and obviate the events of the last year. It may not be too late!"

"That is the plan," Dorian answered, a cheerful smile on his face, most likely placed there to mask the doubt the Tevinter mage might have felt.

The pair had already found Grand Enchanter Fiona, who in her dying breaths urged them to find Leliana. Their next step was to find Alexius and the amulet he had used to send them through time. Solas nodded as he listened, found renewed strength in this new piece of hope.

"You look... bad. Is there anything I can do to help?" It was the first time Alyn had said anything since they had arrived and the worry in her voice nearly made him recoil in shame and pain. He did not deserve her concern, did not deserve her compassion, and before she went back to her time he would make sure that she agreed with his silent thoughts. There and then he had made a new choice, and his past self would face the consequences. He met her gaze and could not help the way his heart squeezed at the sight of her. She was alive.

"I am dying, vhenan, but no matter. If I can help you return, to prevent any of this from happening then my life is yours. This world is an abomination; it must never come to pass."
His term of endearment made her eyes widen slightly in surprise but she said nothing, and the worry did not disappear from her features as she looked at him.
They found him a staff in one of the empty cells, and as they moved he tried to give them as much information as possible that they could bring back to their time; anything that would help them gain an advantage over the Elder One.

It did not take them long to find Blackwall cowering in another cell. Worse off than Solas, it took Alyn and Dorian a lot of coaxing to convince the burly Grey Warden that they were in fact real and very much alive. After having rescued Leliana, who had suffered through months of torture and wanted nothing but revenge, they moved on to the throne room where Alexius had been hiding for months. When they found the room barricaded by a door protected by unknown magic, Solas found his chance to warn Alyn. Dorian was busy examining the door to try to figure out how to breach it, and Solas walked up to her, brushed a hand over her elbow and moved his mouth to her ear.

"May I have a word?"

She turned her head to look at him, concern still etched in her eyes, before she gave him a subtle nod and let herself be led away from the others until they were out of earshot. He knew that he did not have enough time to tell her everything, but if Dorian succeeded with his plan to return them, Solas would make sure that his past self would be forced to talk. Placing his hands on Alyn's shoulders, he leaned his head closer and spoke in hushed whispers.

"My past self, the Solas who will be standing in the throne room once you walk back out through the time rift, do not trust him, vhenan."

She frowned in confusion. From the look in her eyes he could see that she was taking his words in but was having a difficult time believing what she was hearing.

"I don't understand. Why-?"

"I would tell you everything if I knew that we had the time. I would not place this burden on you unless I had any other choice. Make him tell you the truth."

She still looked confused, but finally she nodded as determination filled her eyes.

"How?"

Before he could give her the answer and information she needed, Dorian let out a triumphant cry and turned to look at them with a smile on his face.

"I believe I've figured out how to open this door."

They had to move on, fight through more guards, mages and demons to find the shards needed to unlock the door. Each corridor was more horrifying than the last; the red lyrium covering the walls like haunting sculptures, but all Solas could think of was that he needed to find time to continue his conversation with Alyn. Truthfully, he could have just shouted it for all of them to hear; Leliana, Blackwall and himself would remain in this world after all. But Dorian would not, and Solas would rather him not knowing. For now, this was for her ears alone. What she did with that knowledge later was for her to decide.

Time, it turned out, was yanked from under their feet after they had finally managed to open the door and killed Alexius. The ground shook and he knew that the Elder One had noticed them, noticed Dorian and her. They had to leave now or all would be lost and Solas would not, could not, allow that to happen. Blackwall and Leliana had come to the same silent conclusion and their choices were made; he and Blackwall would defend the outer doors to give Dorian the time he needed to cast the spell that would return him and Alyn to the past. Leliana would remain with them in the throne room; the last line of defence.
Upon hearing their plan Alyn protested angrily, letting them know that she would not let them sacrifice themselves. She gave Solas a pleading glance and he could only stare back at her sadly; that decision was not hers to make, but he would not let her leave without having received the information she needed. He placed a hand on her shoulder, moved her away from the others and this time he spoke more hurriedly.

"Ask him- ask me about the orb and what I plan to do with it. Mention the name Corypheus. I will deny everything, come up with a lie, but mention my real name and I will not be able to remain quiet."

She was holding on to his arms, gripping them tightly, and guilt gnawed at him as he knew that he allowed this to happen. Instead of distancing himself he had let himself develop feelings for her and it was clear that she held the same feelings for him. His only comfort was the knowledge that hers would dissipate as soon as she knew who he truly was; knew what he had done and what his past self was still planning on doing. He hoped that she would be smart enough to distance herself from him after everything had been revealed.

"Real name?" she whispered, her words almost drowned out by the hordes of demons that were slowly approaching the room on the other side of the door.

He was a selfish fool and she would hate him, but even so he couldn't help himself. He pressed his lips against hers, kissing her with the final desperation of a dead man and she was quick to respond, allowing her lips to part for him, letting him taste her, and he did not deserve any of it. He broke the kiss too soon, felt his heart pound faster and faster as he moved his lips to her ear and whispered the name he had not used in years; the name that her people reviled. He felt her tense up under his touch, felt her hands grip his arms tighter, and he pulled back to look at her and face her reaction. There was no hatred in her eyes, no fear, but she had turned significantly paler.

"Why are you telling me this?" she finally asked, her voice strained.

He removed himself from her grip before he backed away and smiled at her sadly.

"Everyone has a choice."

The demons were getting closer, their screams and screeches echoing in the walls, and Solas gave Blackwall a nod before they both walked out of the door. He heard her call after him as it shut behind him but he ignored it as he set all his emotions aside and stared at the swarm ahead. It was too late to stop all of the mistakes that he had made in his lifetime, but she could stop him from going ahead with his past self's latest plan, and he was ready to die knowing that he had, for once, made the right choice. With a cold glare at the demons ahead, he cast a barrier over himself and the Grey Warden, and then he unleashed his rage onto the abomination of a world that his pride had wrought.