He held her hands delicately as if he was expecting them to float away at any given moment. His long slender fingers were calloused and still underneath hers. By comparison, she gripped tight and dug in like he was the last piece of land between her and a waterfall. She could feel the prickle of the fade in his skin and could hardly keep still. Cha'cer gripped tighter. Solas smiled.
"It's going to be alright," he said.
"I know that." It came out sharper than she had intended. She took a deep breath. "I… know that. I've been there before. This is hardly new."
"But only accidentally," he reminded her, his eyebrow lifting slightly in his own way of asking for confirmation. She nodded.
"I think… I'm ready," Cha'cer said quietly. She breathed in and out slowly. Solas watched her carefully.
"Are you sure you have no more questions?"
"Oh, I have plenty. Just none that will ease my uh…" She offered an apologetic grin, "tension."
Solas nodded and added a small pressure to the grip on her hands. They were so much smaller than his. So calloused and scarred. He focused on each bruise, each nick on her far too young skin. He focused on the stones of Skyhold, and the tiny dents and cracks in the surfaces until he could hear the scrape of swords that had long since rusted away. Like a wash of a cool breeze they had found their way into the Fade.
Cha'cer's hands clawed onto his own, her eyes slammed shut. That small muscle in her jaw twitched and her eyebrows had furrowed as far as they could go. For all she had tried to convince him, the Fade terrified her—with good reason. She was no mage, and aside from the gaping tear on her hand, had no connection to it. Every time the Fade touched her, the slaughter of hundreds seemed to follow. Even still she had insisted, downright stalked him, until he had promised to take her with him on his next explorations. He had tried to explain what he could of the dangers but she'd waved it away.
"It doesn't matter," she had said. "I trust you. I don't need to trust the Fade. Right?"
"Well—" Solas had started.
"Nope. Don't tell me. Something about beliefs shaping the whatevers to suit my whatevers, right? That's great. I believe you can protect me. That should be enough." She had looked so proud.
Solas squeezed her hands gently and felt her grip tighten. His thumb traced the back of her hands and he focused everything he could into a protective barrier around them. Nothing so flashy as to call attention to them, but enough to keep them safely out of sight. Her expression slowly relaxed to contrast the grip on his hands but he did not mind.
Her eyes fluttered open, wide as saucers and the same shock of blue they always were. They darted from her hands to his face, then very cautiously to the barrier around them. It gleamed and sparkled that eerie blue that veilfire always seemed full of. It was familiar. She breathed.
"Are you alright?" He asked. She looked back at him, startled. That grin of hers broke out faster than he had expected but her fingernails still dug deep into his skin. He waited patiently.
"It's still very green. Lots of rocks, too. Some are floating. Very ominous." She nodded to the pillars around them. The billowing green smoke spiraled somehow neither upwards or down. She was struggling picking something to focus on and it showed. "Not sure I'll adopt the style of décor back at Skyhold, mind you. Upside-down tables with the skulls of mythical creatures doesn't quite capture the aesthetic I'm going for."
He laughed. "Oh? And what is the desired aesthetic, Vhenan?"
Her eyes caught his for longer this time. They watched him curiously and waited for him to back-track, to pretend he had said something else, or to change the subject. Solas waited in patient silence. Her hands softened in his. She glanced at the barrier, then back at her own hands. Very carefully and with deliberation, she took one hand out of his grasp, careful to keep the other locked on. The hand with the anchor, Solas noted with interest. She pressed her palm against his like she could hide it from the Fade somehow if she only made it invisible. Her other hand very slowly touched the ground they sat upon. It was the same stone as her balcony in Skyhold but different. The marks were darker, more defined. Fresh. Her fingers traced the sharper edges.
"It's younger here, isn't it?" She asked.
"Yes," he said, still watching her. A small smile tugged at her lips.
"You've brought me to a memory, haven't you?"
Solas nodded. He couldn't keep his eyes off her. It was the way she soaked in the castle around her like it was a secret—the reason he had agreed. Despite her fears, her curiosity was genuine. Cha'cer's hand never so much as shifted in his but she somehow maneuvered into a sitting crouch. He moved the barrier to follow. She looked back at him wide-eyed but he smiled back.
"You're safe, lethallin. I promise."
She swallowed again. She twisted her mouth up in a concentrated scowl and stood up, yanking him up with her. He followed her stiff gesture with grace that came with experience and decided not to comment on it for now. Instead, Solas placed a gentle hand on her waist and guided her towards the balcony door.
"I want you to imagine the courtyard," he said. She shot him a wary look.
"Will I like this?"
"I suppose there's only one way to find out." He gestured towards the door. She frowned at him. He met her gaze evenly. She sighed and pushed the door open in a rush.
Like only the Fade could, they were standing in the rubble of the courtyard. In it, all the stone steps that been recently painstakingly repaired lie in ruin. Dust picked up in the green winds and blew harshly against their skin. The flowers were loud and violently tearing into the remaining structure with clawing vines and stems. The grass was overgrown and decayed in some spots. The smell leaked through strong, like soil, like rain, like sweat. Some of the less defined dust floated upwards towards the nothingness like they were uncertain they belonged to this memory. Cha'cer's eyes reflected it all in detail. She pressed into his side and squeezed his hand once.
"When is this?" She asked.
Instead of answering, he guided her to look towards the gates of Skyhold instead. Not a few metres away, the iron wrought chains lay uselessly around the stone arches. The bridge, however carried a person clad in robes and a staff. The person, no elf, pushed dangerously onwards through the wind and the biting dust with one arm up to shield his face. Cha'cer sucked in a breath. She would've recognized his face anywhere.
"Can he—er, you—see us?" She asked, glancing from the shadow of Solas to the real one beside her.
"It's more complicated than that, Vhenan. What you're seeing isn't me. It's a reflection. And your beliefs—"
"-shape the Fade. I know, I know. Bunch of mage mumbo-jumbo." She grumbled without malice.
The figure approached with the lofty indifference that came with dreaming. His staff pushed into the ground like it was no more than a hiking stick. He bundled his robes tight around his torso and shielded his face until his first few steps into the shelter of the castle walls. Only then did the figure stop to take account of his whereabouts. Some things about that Solas were the same; bare feet, minimalist clothing, and the jawbone strung up around his neck. But there was something in his face that felt older. Cha'cer leaned forward without thinking, taking slow steps closer. Solas kept hold of her hand and followed silently. The false Solas mirrored her in step until they were close enough that their noses could have touched. Without warning, the false Solas looked at her. Really looked at her. She froze mid-step like a rabbit suddenly spotted by a wolf.
His eyes were different. They did not carry the soft wisdom of her Solas, nor the warmth. There was coldness and something feral. More than anything, there was sorrow etched into his features. He looked gaunt and weary, like he was seconds away from sleep that just would not come. The way he looked at her was lonely and desperate. It was hungry.
Just as quick as the thought had occurred to her, the false Solas stepped through her like a ghost and continued his journey into the fortress without comment. Cha'cer flinched and shuddered. The feeling left her with a hiss of his cold and anger, so much anger, passing through her bones. She turned with the memories movement only to find the false Solas gone, replaced by the entirely real one. He looked at her, eyes full of concern. It was so different, so harshly different that she could hardly believe they were the same.
"Memories are shaped too, yes?" She asked cautiously. He nodded.
"To the emotions of those who lived it, yes. This was my memory and my emotions, I'm afraid." He paused. "I wanted to show you how I was… before. It's not wholly accurate as you have pointed out, but it felt the best way to... well. Show you." He stumbled on his words. It had seemed like a grand idea at the time, and now was looking awfully pathetic.
She looked at him like he was delicate. Her eyebrows tilted upwards in something like confusion. She brushed her free hand to his cheek and rested it lightly at the base of his neck. He couldn't meet her gaze. Her pity was not the goal of this, not the conclusion he had wanted. She had offered so much of herself to him, to the Inquisition, to the people she protected and he just wanted to have offered something. Perhaps to make up for his mistakes in some small way.
"You should give yourself more credit," He could hear her smile and looked up. The crooked grin greeted him like she always did. "You're far more handsome than you remember."
