"It was cruel of you to seek me in my dreams"
Her voice was a perfect calm, soft as the first dawn cloud unfurling, each word carefully measured as though they would spill from an overflowing cup should she rush them. That same voice slid through his heavily guarded defences like hot steel through ice, bypassing any resistance that might allow him the few precious seconds it would have taken to pull back the intake of breath she steals from him. His mind had been honed to a sharp arrow point only moments before, focused only upon removing the intruder that had found their way into his sanctuary, the concept neither disturbing nor rousing, merely a bland factor that needed removal before it became anywhere close to becoming a true threat. Dispassionate didn't even come close to how he had become now, the closer he had come to realising his task the more he had closed down such unnecessary emotions like guilt and fear, neither of which served much of a purpose now. His mind was had been prepared, much of his emotion carefully deconstructed to allow him to do what needed to be done, even if that meant removing another piece from the chessboard he was soon to overturn. That carefully constructed state of calm assurance was not prepared for seeing her again, and what parts of his demeanour she did not successfully shatter upon his first seeing her, she now blew away like dust in the wake of her voice.
Though he knew he deserved little mercy these days he was afforded a small one now in the fact that her back was turned to him, her face tilted to stare up into the almost disapproving gaze of the stone wolf atop the large, square pedestal in the pool before her. An overgrowth of ivy hid most of the statue's expression, but she seemed to find something to contemplate in one of those unblinking eyes for she didn't turn to look at him, In fact the slight tense set of her shoulders told him she was restraining herself from doing so. That he still knew such a detailed expression of her body surprised him further, after three years he should have forgotten so small a thing. Yet he doesn't have to look much more closely to note that he could still read her body well enough to know that as tight a grip as she might have on that careful calm she now wore, it was forced. Somehow this small flaw made it easier to slide his own version of a stone mask in place, even if doing so did cause a pang to his recently ill used conscience.
His stance upon reaching the bottom of the crumbling staircase had been poised for immediate confrontation, not even his agents should have known he was here, so the presence of another called only for immediate and likely terminal action on his part. However the sight of her seemed to shut down every part of the instincts that allowed him to harm another, as if every cell contributing to such an action protested at once, the swell of power in his hands now cooling and collapsing in on itself as he straightened up and allowed the tip of his staff to rest upon the floor.
There was no expectancy in the long silence that unravelled between them, it was a silence that would go on for as long as it needed to as they both submerged themselves in the sensation of being near one another again, an almost palpable merging of spaces that touched cautiously upon each other even across the physical distance currently between them. She had never been able to occupy his space unobtrusively, her presence had always been a faraway song that had struck a beautiful but discordant note amidst the comforting drone of his anonymity, reaching him even in the deepest of his meditations, calling his attention to her without her ever having to try. It had been those unconscious distractions to his own familiar calm that had first caused him to warn himself that he should tread very carefully with the fascinating creature.
"I never imagined you would be able to sense my presence"
He didn't flinch at the sound of his own voice but part of him wanted to, the tone cold enough to bite and the slow curling of fingers around the staff held loosely at her side told him she had felt the sting well enough. The bitter cocktail of both regret and satisfaction lined his throat now, a few more emotions that had been left to gather dust in distant vaults he had placed in his own mind, never to be truly forgotten but deemed useless to him then. That they should find him so easily, such recently impotent emotions that both mourned the pain he caused her and revelled in rippling the waters of her facade, caused the thinnest of cracks in his confidence when it came to dealing with this unexpected visit. That she should find him at all, merely proved how dangerous she truly was to him.
"While i think i can deal with your voice having about as much warmth as a thrown brick i would really rather you not pretend I'm still naive when it comes to you Solas. You knew, you always slipped away before i could so much as reach out to you"
That she had caught him in a lie did not seem to bother him as much as it should have, her tone and lack of deference towards him did catch him off guard however. Having been regarded with almost overbearing respect by all that would call themselves one of his 'agents', her lilting but honest tone felt like a shout in a world that had only been inhabited by whispers till now. He opened his mouth to answer her and found his voice stilled while he watched her hand uncurl and slip into the recesses of her robe. The object she withdrew was a simple piece of pyrite, and yet the stone that still glimmered like a dull and tamed fire drew his attention sharply, unspoken words falling dust like on suddenly dry lips as he watched her step into the pool. A brief glimpse of one bare sole as she stepped into the clear water caused a fist to thrust its way into his gut sharply while the recollection of salt and red dirt touch lightly upon his senses like a kiss from a ghost...or a memory. He knows what she is about to do and it devastates him more than her sorrow ever could have.
~~~oOo~~~
"It is not common for anyone to leave offerings to the dread wolf, let alone a Dalish"
He doesn't mean to startle her but he can see by the tensing of shoulders and the swift, bird like tilt of her head, that he has caught her unawares. She is sitting on a stump outside a run down house rumoured to have been home to a healer that had not survived the first wave of the breach. It has mostly remained untouched and he can understand it's value as a place of solitude in an unfamiliar and crowded keep. And yet he has chosen to ignore her need to be alone, driven by his own curiosity and perhaps a faint touch of arrogant ego that belonged to a much younger man.
She lifts her head to look at him finally, her eyes wary and faintly amused at the same time, the latter an expression she seemed to reserve for him alone or so he had observed in the past few weeks. She does not seek to admonish him for disturbing her though she doesn't answer him, her slightly slanted gaze merely holds his own in a silent and polite invitation to elaborate further on his abrupt statement and he finds himself compelled to do so.
"The veridium you placed at the feet of the statue in Crestwood, it was an offering was it not? Would your clan approve?"
She makes a soft sound through her nose, not quite a laugh though her lips tilt into a more defined impression of a smile as she shakes her head indulgently, as if he were some adorable child who had just misunderstood a simple concept. This bothers him more than he would like to admit and he finds himself biting down on both his tongue and his impatience as he watched her lift her eyes to the steadily darkening sky as if searching for words. He knew she would answer him. Whether that answer was heavily veiled with humour, frustration or anger it would always be honest and therefore worth his seeking her out.
"I highly suspect they would say nothing while giving each other 'I told you so' looks"
She lay her staff over her knees, resting forearms on the patterned ironwood as though metaphorically throwing down a gentle gauntlet. Amid all her honesty and amusement was also a defensive stance and he had to remind himself that she had no idea of his identity and she was now mentally preparing herself for a diatribe she'd had to endure from countless of her kind who might question the same action he had witnessed. That he was not Dalish seems to have escaped the almost natural response he'd prompted in her, but for once he does not correct the comparison, he was further intrigued despite himself and leaned his weight upon his own down pointed staff, presenting his intention to remain until she reciprocated in the task of elaborating her words. She nods as if expecting as much and rocks back on her perch, face tilted to the sky with a cynical huff that again, isn't quite laughter but comes close.
"I have been leaving 'gifts' to Fen'harel since i was 6 years old. I understand it was vaguely cute if a little worrying back then. It became less cute and slightly more worrying when it continued into adulthood. I never understood their need to turn such a simple action into something so…..daring. I was simply keeping a promise...i still am i suppose, though it's not something i think upon so deeply these days"
She had answered his question and yet he didn't move because now he was contemplating the many other questions she had raised, this was another of her unique abilities that seemed to be reserved solely for him. She would tell him about herself, but it was never as easy as simply asking one or two questions, she made him chip away at the surface in order to navigate himself to the core answer of the many questions she often raised in the wake of his own. It occurred to him that she was doing this in order to play a very slow game with him and found himself fascinated rather than annoyed at the presumption, her games were played gently and with no real malice, it was simply a facet of her nature.
Her sigh is quite theatrical when she notes his immovable but patient expression, yet she indulges him all the same, never needing to hide the fact that she enjoyed speaking to him, not because he was an elf or a mage, but simply because she had a quiet fervor for knowledge he had not seen in her kind for quite some time and it hadn't taken her long to realise that Solas had a wealth of such knowledge under his belt.
"When i was very young I used to sneak after my father when he went on one of his hunts. He always knew i was there of course, at six years old i was hardly stealthy, but he would allow the pretence all the same, it was our own unspoken game"
She allows him a moment or two to set the scene in his own head, and so he does try to picture her as a child, finding it easier to do so when he watches the almost constant sparkle of mirth hidden in her eyes. For what time he has known her she has not been prone to bouts of sentimentality, any talk of her past becoming light and infused with self deprecating humor. This led him to believe that whatever had truly caused her to remain separated from her clan, she had come to terms with it, almost cheerfully so, unusual for a race that bestowed so much importance upon unity and the strength within.
"One day i became hopelessly lost, while following father i had been distracted by something, perhaps i heard an interesting noise, or maybe i chased a passing butterfly, i forget that part now, i invite you to make it up as you see fit"
Flashing a grin she tucks one foot onto her lap, negligently brushing away the collection of dirt and pine needles from their soles. The wrappings had been removed in favour of feeling the earth beneath her feet, something she has done often, though it had never particularly piqued his curiosity until he'd noted Crestwood's dry red dirt that coating one of those soles as she rose herself up onto tip toe in order to place the veridium stone upon the pedestal and scratch the statue behind one stoney ear with a faint murmur of..
"...a little luck if you don't mind old wolf"
She surprises him with a faint cough, and he is slightly perturbed to find he has fallen into reverie enough for her to have noticed, his attention snapping back to her face, centering on a singular brow raised in silent question before it smooths out and she continues.
"The more i tried to find my way back home, the more hopelessly lost i became, it was the first time in my life that i ever experienced real fear. Somehow i had wandered out from the boundaries of our camp, the forest became denser with every step and i felt as though the very tree's were becoming less friendly"
Her eyes have become slightly unfocused now and he finds himself slipping down to rest on his haunches, the smooth wood of his staff sliding through his fingers as he watches the familiar process of someone allowing themselves to step deeper into a memory. She had a coarse way with words when it came to dealing with most people, carefully hiding most of what she said within a sharp sense of humor, but there were times like this, when it didn't seem as though she were putting on some performance to hide her deeper nature, one that seemed far more quiet, and thoughtful.
"I was so scared that i nearly walked right into their camp. I don't know why they were there, likely hunters or perhaps soldiers moving from one battlefield to another, it was enough that they were Shemlen and therefore a physical embodiment of every horror story all good Dalish children are taught at birth. At that age i didn't have the ability to be particularly prejudiced about their kind, but with every frightening story i had been told over the years suddenly superimposed over this group of men, i was damn sure scared enough to find myself fighting the horrible desire to pee my pants"
He suppresses most of the chuckle that attempts to slip deviously past his control, though he is too late to catch it before his mouth is robbed of it's neutral stance in the curving of one corner. Her answering smirk tells him she finds some satisfaction in this and silently he concedes to her unexpected victory with a twirl of his hand, prompting her to continue. She in turn mocks a bow in equally silent acquiescence to his flourished request, ignoring him when his features draw together in his own mockery of impatience.
"When i could finally feel my legs again i did a very foolish thing...i ran. I don't know whether they thought i was game or perhaps an intruder, i think you can understand that i didn't exactly stop to ask them. I had no care as to where i was running too, only what i was running from, so it was hardly surprising that i managed to carry both myself and my pursuers into more dangerous territory. I could still hear the humans crashing through the forest, though my senses had been shaken enough that i couldn't tell if they were getting nearer or further away. I looked up and there he was…"
She does look up now and he is fairly certain that for a moment she's not seeing the snow dusted mountains through the trees but the clearing of which she speaks, plucking her thoughts from that mental picture in a voice that has grown softer in remembrance and was that...affection?
"Just as i had heard the stories of Shemlen, i had heard the many tales of Fen'harel, i should have probably been as afraid of him as i was of the humans, but i could never bring myself to be afraid of the wise old face that stared down at me from those statues, and coming across one in that clearing roused a feeling in me that even a child could recognize...safety"
Yes the affection in her tone was unmistakable now, as though she spoke of an old friend rather than a symbol of foolish Dalish fear. He had noticed her lack of deference to her people's 'gods' before, she was never truly blasphemous, nor did she ever say she didn't believe, but as she had said to him once when he had commented on her unique attitude…" I just have too many questions"
"The Dalish have their own prayers of course, but right then i couldn't remember a single one, only a short and inappropriate nursery rhyme my brother had taught me and i didn't think that was likely to earn much favour. So i feverishly hunted around my person until i found a chip of obsidian i had picked up somewhere along my wanderings, i couldn't remember our words, but even i understood the concept of an offering. I climbed up on that pedestal and sat myself between those huge stone paws with that wise old face staring down at me, and i promised i would thank him with an offering every time i saw one of his statues, if he could just see his way to letting me get out of this mess alive"
She laughs easily at the foolishness of her younger self, yet the smile left behind is almost proud of a younglings daring at such a frightening time. Meanwhile he is strangely captured by her words, it wasn't often that anyone spoke of his hidden face with anything but superstition or fear, to hear her speak of his namesake so fondly was a strangely affecting change, one he couldn't bring himself to interrupt and so he chose not to fell the silence with another of his own questions, she would pick up her words again in her own time, while he was free to study the way the line of her jaw softens from that constantly cynical expression when she spoke of something that touched more than just the surface of her psyche.
"The men never did find me, i couldn't say as to when i stopped hearing them trampling through the forest in their heavy boots, i had curled into the shadow of that wolf and eventually fell asleep. It was perhaps unfortunate that some of the more superstitious hunters accompanied my father in his search for me. They said nothing to my father's face of course, but finding me perfectly at peace beneath the gaze of the Dread Wolf was enough for the first uneasy rumblings to begin. When i woke to my father's voice i knew two things at once; I was safe, and i really ought to keep my promise...just in case"
"Did you truly believe that the Fen'harel saved you that night?"
He is surprised at the self indulgence hidden within his question, and yet cannot bring himself to care, her opinion on the subject seeming to matter to him for some reason. He has used the past tense of course, having already seen that she is far too jaded to believe that the old wolf looked over her now. The ritual of her promise had simply bloomed into an automatic act of superstition, or so he believes….and finds unnervingly charming despite himself. The low tone of her laughter proves his suspicions to be correct, as well as the rolling of her eyes as she brushes the last of the dirt from the sole of her foot.
"Back then i believed in just about everything my elders told me, considering some of the things we're supposed to take on faith, thinking that some mythical trickster god chose to save my life wasn't too far a stretch when you think about it. Of course the older i grew the more questions i asked and such a belief is hard to hold onto after a while"
"Then why do you still…"
She gives him an incredulous look now, one that practically gleams with all her good humour and it's a struggle not to note how her expressions can say a hundred things at once.
"Because I'm not arrogant enough to believe that I might not be wrong! It'd be pretty embarrassing to find out the old wolf has been watching me all this time, only choosing to state his actual existence the one time i don't honor my promise"
His laughter is almost ghostly in it's softness and yet she seems to take undeniably wicked sense of delight in it, she had been chasing evidence that his sense of humor actually existed after all, and here it was, albeit dry and somewhat neglected. She doesn't understand the full motivation behind his amusement and nor will she if he watches his step around her, but for the moment he's allows her this second victory, only giving a sliver of his true self to her after all...he could manage that much at least. The sad truth is of course he hadn't saved her life, just as he never heard her promise. Watching her he knows the temptation of wandering her dreams again in search of this slightly macabre memory will be hard to resist.
~~~oOo~~~
He watched her approaching the statue, a helpless ache churning in his gut, making it harder to hold the mask in place for the few moments it took her to place the pyrite between unmoving paws..to stretch up on tip toe to scratch behind a stony ear. Her touch lingered on the stone, the gesture almost seeming like a farewell. Somewhere in the last few years she had stripped her memory of him from that of the stone wolf and the legends that followed it. Now it had simply become the symbol of her youth and her travels, a small comfort that she now seemed to be placing ceremoniously aside. He knew he had to say something soon, but he allowed himself to be struck by her simple action before he pulled himself together once more, not ignorant to her talent of causing the mask to slip so often.
"I will never apologise for my compulsion to watch you, your need to see me again caused something of a stir within the fade, i had never seen such a clustering of Rage and Desire, I'm impressed you withstood possession...though hardly surprised"
He was more honest than he might have wished to be and a part of him wanted to wince at the casual nature of his admittance. It was an old and useless habit now of course, she knew what he felt for her, even if she couldn't ever truly understand it, it was simply a cruel contortion of fate that in understanding what she meant to him, he had only reinforced his notion to leave before she caused him to doubt his she had been right to chide him for his instinct to lie to her in the first place, for all that they had been through she of all people deserved his honesty, even when it might contain an unkind truth. She laughed, a short and jagged sound that echoed sharply around high stone walls and he could almost capture that same old cynical grin in his mind's eye. Her back still remained turned his way for now and he could feel her mentally preparing herself to to finally look at him.
"Still not above being an arrogant ass i see, I would applaud your continued ability to strike at just the right nerve but….well"
Dangerous undertones wound snake like around the last few words and his eyes were of course drawn to one long sleeve he knew would be empty should he try to grasp her there. Justification tried to rise to his lips, he had saved her life in taking her arm after all, but they both knew that in the end he would have taken what he needed regardless of her situation. For the first time, the reason for her being here rose as a question in his mind. What was she doing here, if she'd meant to catch him off guard then she had failed spectacularly, but that didn't feel like the case here. This did not feel like the epic confrontation one might pen into a story, it was more like they were approaching each other carefully through a minefield of painful memories and unanswered want. She had come here with something to say, how terminally she chose to say it was up for interpretation still. By all counts he was still considered an enemy of the inquisition and she was still the inquisitor, he still intended to cause the destruction of her world, one would think that there would be a lot more shouting. He found himself wishing that she would shout, he would find it so much easier to climb back upon his high horse if she were behaving irrationally. But even that dangerous edge to her voice slipped away on a sigh, as if resigning herself before finally turning to look at him.
He was even less prepared for the full confrontation of that face again. She would never be classically beautiful, her features were too sharp, almost hawk like, her expression almost constantly mobile unless she was truly at peace and she appeared as far removed from peace as was possible right now. But there was that same mouth that always seemed to be on the cusp of laughter, and the same eyes that had seemed to all but drink in his every word when he found a topic that fed her obsessive hunger for knowledge, always turning over each of those words to find some point of amusement regardless of her actual interest. But it wasn't her peculiar features that caused a momentary pause in his heart, nor was it her mouth or eyes, both of which seemed to be straining to find an expression that would fit her current thoughts, because he could see that he affected her just as deeply as she affected him. No, it was the bareness of her face that held him still and brought guilt like bile to the back of his throat. The lack of her familiar vallaslin was a silent accusation in it's own right, a parting gift that might have been beautiful if he had not shattered the illusion by leaving her side almost immediately after. It was a disgraceful thing to do of course, and without context it was unforgivably cruel. But how could he have explained that for a second...just a second, he had looked into her trusting eyes and felt his world shift just enough to entertain the thought of giving it all up, of letting his past go in order to remain with her. That his resolve was tested even in this small way had scared him badly and prompted his quick and brutal ending to their relationship.
"Are you here to kill me?"
It was the only question he felt safe asking right now, anything else and his voice might well shake enough for her to know that she still affected him more than he would like. She laughed again and that ache in his gut twisted into something sharper because the sound was almost as he remembered it in the moments he had allowed his mind to drift towards her, but only almost because much of the true humor had been dulled over the past three years and it scalded him to know that this had been his doing as well as her own.
"Oh come on Solas, we both know i don't have the power to kick your ass, and if you have aspirations of kicking mine….well my only request is that if you intend to turn me into a statue, at least allow me a flattering pose"
She waded carefully to the edge of the pool now and sat upon it's stone ledge , wringing out the edges of fabric that had grown heavy with water and tried to cling to the shape of her bare legs. He had never seen her naked, taking to her bed had been a step too far, an indulgence that would have been a far larger betrayal considering his plans to leave once he had regained his precious orb. The flash of one strong leg from hip to toe through the slit of her robes did not spark a change in his expression while he was still face to face with her, but if given time to inspect the memory another time he knew he would find himself somewhat breathless.
"I didn't come here to kill you Solas, nor did i come here to hash out why you hurt me or even why you have turned from the man i both respected and loved to another Corypheus. I am here for one reason and one reason alone"
Though she had now faced him her eyes had not quite settled upon his yet, always moving to a spot just above his shoulder, or focusing on his mouth. Only now did she give him the entirety of her gaze, only now did she show him exactly how sad, weary and old she had become in the last three years. The eyes said it all and yet she opened her hand and let her staff fall with a clatter in order to underline her point.
"I give up.."
"You...what?"
He had understood her perfectly of course and yet he couldn't come to terms with what she was saying, not right away. This was not typically how the stories were supposed to go. She was the reluctant yet archetypal hero, she was not supposed to give up when someone had threatened her world, and she had proven that much when she had destroyed Corypheus despite everything the corrupted magister had thrown in her path. She had been strong then and he had expected her to be strong now even if she had suffered some emotional bruising. A rather sick part of himself that he often wished didn't exist felt slightly...cheated, as if her refusal to fight was an unfitting end to something that had become important to him even as he had ended it.
"I give up...I'm done, i no longer have the desire to see this through. I don't want the future where i have to watch you destroy my world, and i don't want the future where i have to kill you in order to prevent it. I don't want my last memory of you to once again be your retreating back while you do the fucking honorable thing"
This was a little too much, she was applying mental pressure to the edges of his mask once more, trying to separate Fen'harel from Solas, a state of being he might almost have forgotten if he still hadn't been tempted by the lure of her dreams from time to time. But this was not the fade, not his comfort zone, and her blunt honesty touched upon his honed will like silent hammer blows. She was approaching him now, her steps cautious yet unfaltering and it took much of that crumbling will not to take a step back and ward her away from him, as if one touch from her might well turn his resolve to dust. She was too real and he had forgotten what that had felt like in her absence, she would always blaze past his careful defences, reminding him all too painfully of what he was about to destroy.
"My grand adventure is finally over...so where the hell else would i go but here, who else would i come to when i know that this world is soon going to end in horror and so much pain. I've hated you harder than i have hated any other creature in existence, and that only made the love all the more fierce. Trying to forget you was like trying to forget i couldn't pick anything up with an amputated arm, the ghost of you was too strong, just like the muscle memory i can still feel when I'm not thinking about it and reach for something"
She was almost toe to toe with him now, close enough for see the scrapes and scratches she had gained upon getting here, close enough for him to almost taste the bitter edge to her last words. Again he fought the desire to push her away, all too aware of a growing desire to do exactly the opposite, it was an urge that could be all too easily acted upon in the face of her angry surrender. But she did not press their proximity any further, tucking her remaining hand to the small of her back as if warding herself from doing the same thing for likely exactly the same reason.
"I have thrown too many lives to the cause of stopping you, and none of it has mattered in the long run, you've had too long to plan and even my knowledge is only but a fraction of your own, you were always going to win, but none of us really wanted to admit it. You will tear down the veil, you couldn't turn away from that course now even if you wanted to, but i have no intention of watching my world burn, so if you truly mean to cross that line...when the time comes, you can start with me"
The silence between them now was as solid as diamond, in fact it was more a complete absence of sound, a moment in time where everything living held a collective breath, not even a breeze daring to interrupt the air around them. He didn't want to credit what he had just heard and yet he had heard it with the same perfect clarity as always. What she was asking...demanding, made his stomach roil unpleasantly and the shock was too much to keep from his widening eyes and slightly parted lips.
"You cannot be serious, I am not going to kill you!"
He didn't bother to strip the horror from his words, the idea appalled him and he wasn't going to try hiding that from her. She took a few steps up and raised her arm as if presenting herself for the taking, he made a choked sound of disgusted dismay before turning away from her.
"Well...you are actually. How long do you think i will survive once you have torn down the barrier between us and them, or does it feel slightly less like killing me if I'm simply one among thousands. I choose to die first, i choose to be the only one allowed to look you in the eye when you finally do it. Come on Solas, allow me this one thing, allow me to mean something to you one last time, if not as your lover then at least as someone who means more than just another game piece you are about to sweep off the board, allow me to have mattered enough for you to do the deed by your own hand!"
The confidence and conviction was slipping from her voice now, and for all her assertion her words were still a raw plea that both repelled him and made him want to touch her again despite the danger she still posed to his resolve. Her eyes were wide and her expression caused another memory to almost unsteady him for it was a look he recognised, desperate fear. It pierced him deeper than his horror at her demand to make her the herald of her worlds destruction.
~~~oOo~~~
To step into her dreams is of course an invasion of her privacy, a truth that he turns aside in favour of his desire to see the younger version of herself in such a defining moment. It was a whim born of his own curiosity and perhaps a desire to hear one voice call out to him in something other than superstitious fear. That he didn't deserve such a reprieve was not lost on him, but even he was prone to collapse in the face of his own desires as he was doing now, picking his way carefully through a forest crafted by her subconscious. It had been safe enough to assume that asking her to relive this particular moment in her past would bring it forward in her mind, leaving it as a ripe subject for her dreaming mind to find purchase. Of course like most dreams, he has to endure a fragmented start which covers such subjects as helping Sera load pies into a catapult, a halla that recited long forgotten Tevinter poetry and a breathless few moments when her mind touches upon a kiss that had never happened.
This last was mercifully brief, he would invade her privacy and feel only a small regret, but seeing the very hidden corners of her mind would have felt like a molestation of her thoughts and he was relieved when the cool, dark forest could be felt beneath his feet. The beginning of her dreams were merely fanciful and mostly irrelevant stops along whatever path her subconscious was choosing, they were insubstantial things whose outlines often became vague. But now she dreamed with enough clarity that he knows he is walking in memory rather than imagination.
The chill wind plucks at as his robes and chases flurries of light rain through dense foliage, stinging his cheeks and forcing him to squint his eyes. This memory is strong, a place often visited both sleeping and awake. It was strong enough for the wind to howl and the blunt progress of heavily booted feet to be picked up in the peripheral of his hearing. He does his best to tune it out, or at least to separate these sounds from the one he wants. It takes very little assertion of his will to pinpoint what he was looking for; the soft sound of someone trying to be quiet while sobbing. Now he moves both silently and unseen towards the source of that sound, moving through her thoughts with the self assurance of one who has done this in a thousand dreams. The sudden clearing amongst the trees offers a rather starkly touching tableau and his own cynicism demands that he keep in mind that people often embellished a memory, even unconsciously.
Still, it is a sight to pull upon even the tautest of heart strings and he suspects that much of it is unadorned truth. The girl is too skinny for her age and small enough to be almost swallowed by the stone wolf's shadow, her eyes are wild and searching in the darkness, hair a few shades darker than the white blonde he had grown accustomed to sticking to a pale face, two hectic spots of colour burning like brands upon her cheeks. She is clutching the immovable fur between the wolf's throat and chest, as if seeking the comforting texture of the real thing beneath her palms. Whether she is shaking from fear or cold is academic since he knows it is likely both, he continues to watch like a silent sentinel witnessing this moment in her life as she had likely wished he had when she dared to ask his favor.
She has stopped crying by the time she places her forehead to the stone clutched between her hands, although her body still shudders with the occasional aftershock of her tears, little stuttering breaths following in their wake.
"Please….please hear me. I don't know what to do"
If he hadn't been straining to hear it, her whispers might have been lost amongst the wind and the heavy patter of rain on the leaves above. Her pleas have a desperate, clinging edge to them, she is terrified and placing her faith in the only thing left to her, and he felt just a touch more guilt for being here to witness it, though still not enough to tear himself away.
"Don't let them find me. I'll be quiet and won't cry anymore. I'll just stay here and you can make them go away...and then i can find my way home again"
Now her words are garbled mis-matched sentences as she attempts to find the right words of supplication but he knows she won't find any in his name. He is close enough now that he could almost reach out to comfort the child, but he won't interfere here, he merely watches as her attempts at prayer slip away to more wrenching, whispered pleas until she begins to rummage feverishly into her pockets, throwing aside a few odd twigs and other woodland detritus she'd likely deemed interesting enough to keep at some point. The obsidian shard is a deeper shadow sitting upon her open palm and he winces slightly at the large, hopeful eyes that turn up to the proud stone wolf in supplication. When she had spoken of this the scene he imagined had been quite charming in a childish way, and yet the way this girl looks upon statue and likely the personification beyond….it causes his stomach to clench in unpleasant ways. He had never sought to be worshipped and watching her do so now was an uncomfortable experience.
"I know it isn't much….but father always said it was better to give little and often if you didn't have much so…..i'll always leave a present at your statue's, wolves like presents right...i bet you don't get many, they're all scared of you. But if you help me then i'll know you can't be bad and if you're not bad then you should get presents like the others"
The careful and frankly honest logic of a child is always something to behold, a mind became cluttered with reasoning and doubts as one grew older, while a child simply strives for the obvious with an undeveloped moral compass. What might she have become if not for this moment. Would the superstitions of her people successfully poison her mind against the wolf enough that she would have passed those statue's without daring to look them in the eyes. Would troublesome questions have died on her lips or would they have perished before even gaining a foothold, leaving her to be naught more than another of the Dalish. It is her unique qualities that draw his curiosity, a piece that did not fit within his opinions of the Dalish, her very personality causing him to ask questions of his own views. She fascinated him beyond her survival of the mark and her exit from the fade, and from where he stands he believes he knows where she had truly began to be her.
Her supplications begin to fade to whispers and once she is sleeping beneath the wolf's gaze he draws away, the dream already beginning to unravel to another of those insubstantial fancies of her resting mind.
~~~oOo~~~
He was ashamed to admit that he couldn't look her in the eye for long, that burning plea was still there, hiding everything else that had once drawn him to her, transforming her into something slightly pathetic and oh how he hated that his mind picked such a word but it was true. He has seen her face down so much without hesitation, she had pulled strength from reserves that should have long run out and she had never given in to the urgency of her fear, to see her do so now was like looking in on something obscene and absurdly private. He backed away from her yet again unable to cope with the weight of that gaze, giving her his back as he paced back and forth, the usual economic grace of his movements lost to something that felt strangely like panic. He had never wanted to see that look again, seeing it in her dreams had been bad enough, to have it directed at him right here and now was worse.
"What you ask is….i cannot do this, i would give you anything but that. You ask too much"
He visibly drew himself together with those last few words, his voice becoming proud and sharp once more. Better that she saw him as arrogant than as afraid. He could turn her away if he could hold onto himself for just a little longer. This was harder than simply drawing his will together, for half of that will couldn't bear the thought of leaving her again, practice had not made it any easier, quite the opposite in fact. Each time he had walked away from her he left a scar that only he could see, hurting her again would cost him. But when the alternative meant watching her eyes become unseeing…
"Well i knew you were cold, but i never imagined that you might be a coward Fen'harel"
The pleading had left her voice, melted away by the heat that curled about her words like fine steam. Each syllable of that name was drawn out and enunciated with a deadly precision, her tongue now a razor that drew against his skin in a swift strike. For a moment he became as still as the old stone wolf, she had never used that name to his face, even when she knew who he truly was.
"Talitha…"
He hadn't tasted her name on his tongue for years. The single word was set down carefully like a trap whose spring is a hair's breadth away from coming undone, the last syllable ending in a low growl, a warning not to proceed because her steps were now verging on dangerous territory. For all that he cared for her, he was still pride and this was still his sanctuary. The growl echoed over the roof of the chamber and he felt a dim satisfaction when the faintest of gasps found his ears. His somewhat petty victory was short lived however.
"Oh don't, don't hide behind the wolf now, that might have truly impressed me if i were still trying to get into your pant's, all i want from you is the ending i deserve, because you stole any chance of a happy ending i had!"
Damn her! In one sentence she had both choked an abrupt laugh from his throat and drove something sharp somewhere in the region of his kidneys. She'd always had a way with words, and they had often had the effect of drawing more from him than he meant to give. She was working herself up to a fine rant now, he knew that when she mixed her humor with anger it was always safest to find some sort of cover. She was the only woman he knew who would dare to inform Corypheus that nobody wanted a god whose face reminded them of a mabari licking piss off a nettle.
"You waited until the very moment when i thought that it was all over, that there just might be something between us that might survive your bloody honor now that the worst was over. But you left, you ran away and you are still running away from the messes you have made. Look at me dammit""
The flames missed his face and he was quite sure that they meant to, but he still felt the brush of warm air pass like heated knuckles grazing his cheek. The fire slammed into the wall, spraying chips of rock as it fanned out and disappeared, and the wolf sprang. His body moved without conscious thought, augmented by a deceptive speed that propelled and slammed her slightly shorter frame into rough stone, a primordial snarl baring his teeth at her upturned face. He had meant to defend but somehow his frustration had gotten caught up in the wake, and for just a moment he wanted to set his teeth into her throat. It was likely what she had wanted from him, but he wasn't entirely sure that his own reasons were not based on sex rather than death. It was clear how she interpreted his vicious display when she didn't attempt to struggle, remaining perfectly still with her face tilted up at that snarl, her eyes slitted and daring him to continue, to let his pride and anger win long enough to finish what he had started.
"Do it"
He had thought she meant to punish him with her demand, to make it harder for him to destroy her world if he must first begin with her, but the absolute resigned surety in her eyes told him differently. She truly had given up, and right now she wanted him to end her as badly as she had once wanted to spend her years wandering the land freely in search of more than what a clan could offer her. His contorted face slackened gradually and the fingers digging into her one remaining arm loosened by degrees while he quietly came to terms with two things. Firstly,that she was right, he owed her a great deal, perhaps even a dignified death,and secondly, he still could not bring himself to do it, even when every inch of her being was willing him to. She lifted her hand to close around the fingers now resting on her upper arm, that touch imploring rather than demanding.
"Please.."
The word is rough and raw in her throat and something gave way painfully in his chest at the fatalistic quality of that sound. He would have done anything to take it away, and the worst part was, he knew he could do just that. Not by killing her but by doing something so despicably selfish that the idea would have shamed him into rethinking such a course if she were not so close after so long living in only memories of her. He reached up to trace the curve of a prominent cheekbone with the edge of a thumb, head bowing low enough to fill her vision.
"Vhenan.."
Her entire body jerked and she snatched her hand away from his fingers as if they had burned her. Eyes relenting from their demand to become incredulous and frightened all at the same time. If there were ever a time for him to decide to turn back from this method of distraction it was likely now, but he became lost in the way she snapped her eyes shut and turned her head away, shrinking into the stone as if she wished to escape through it.
"Oh you bastard….oh you devious bastard!"
He brushed across a trembling lower lip and allowed himself to remember how it had felt to kiss her. He had always thought that there was something a little wild about her,something that went beyond her being Dalish, the very same thing that had once made her race august rams barefooted in the Emerald had laughed hard that day, full of exhilaration in a single moment when she had been allowed to temporarily forget the trials that still lay before her. That night he had kissed her because the thought of not chasing that joy from her mouth was an unbearable thing, and all the reasons he shouldn't had suddenly become pale and small. He let the memory of her settle upon him once more, to do this with anything less than his true feelings, to hide behind the wolf and the stone mask now would make what he was about to do far worse.
"Please Solas...this is cruel even for you"
If she could have crawled her way up the wall she likely would have and now he trapped her further, pressing his forehead to hers, his words warm and ghostlike in the brief space between them, fingers applying the lightest of pressure to her jaw, turning her face back to his despite the tightly closed eyes she still refused to open, as if the sight of him would set flame to the last restraint holding her to her purpose.
"Open your eyes Vhenan"
The space between them was less than a breath now, and when the next exhale left her in a quiet whimper he could taste it, an open desperation of a new kind, one they both knew all too well. That same desperation had ripped away at his insides in protest every time he had forced himself to walk away from her. The knowledge that he could have easily become lost in her had always been enough to stop him from doing anything they would both regret, firstly because anything that might have distracted him from what needed to be done was dangerous, but also because he knew the more of himself he gave to her, the harder it would be for both of them when he had to leave. When she had kissed him in the fade it had been like cool water splashing down a long ago cracked and dry throat, and when she had pulled away, possibly mortified at her own daring, that one taste had simply not been enough for such a thirst as his. When she finally relented and opened her eyes he felt that thirst again, thickening his tongue, drawing his attention to the helpless longing laced with fear that wavered in her eyes. In all their time it had been he who had been afraid of what one simple kiss could lead to, now that their roles were reversed and his mask was set aside he could not help but feel a surge of satisfaction that he would no doubt hate himself for later.
"You have always been lathbora viran"
Whatever sound she meant to make next, be it acceptance or further anger towards his audacity, he didn't hear, he had breached the bare space between them as he sought more than just the memory of her kiss. If she truly had a protest left in her it now died against his mouth, the firm press of lips insistent enough to rob her of any thought further than the next second and then the next. He was stealing her will to fight or even think all over again, but with the taste pouring into every dry and dying cell of his body he found himself caring less and less about why he was doing this or the consequences that would follow. When she parted her lips against his own with a hard shudder,his tongue didn't hesitate to slip its way past such an invitation, slaking a thirst that had hounded him to utter distraction before now.
His selfish act became all the more selfish when reasoning slipped away entirely and he was simply reacting to the way she seemed to break beneath his kiss. Reason and consequence were tiny specks upon the horizon of his mind now, the old wolf would finally drown himself in her.
