She breathes in the cool air of the mountains and tries to release the weight of her dream in the exhale. After months bereft of his influence, tonight's visions caught her by surprise. She woke with a cry, a cold sweat beading on her skin, and knew she had to escape somewhere not touched with his memory. The parapets of Skyhold are quiet and strong. Patrols wander by, but their presence is brief and far in between. The soldiers seem to know her mind and give thankful space for her to unwind.
It's been three months since Corypheus' defeat. Three months since Solas left without a trace.
She did not believe it at first. Despite everything, she never expected him to break a promise. He said he would explain everything and swore to help her find a way to break Mythal's influence.
But he lied.
She buried herself in her remaining work after his departure. There was still so much left undone, after all. Red Templars, Venatori, the occasional Darkspawn, they were all still threats to Thedas. Many people needed many things from the now powerful Inquisition.
Three months later, things are calm enough for Keela to think, to remember, and to dream of him.
The Fade spat her out in Haven again. It was quiet like before, but a stillness akin to a graveyard, the cool chill of the air like a stale tomb around her. Keela found herself inside the temple prone and unconscious with a chest barely filling with breath. Solas knelt beside her.
Something fierce poked at her heart to see him again, even in dreams. She latched onto every inch of him, following graceful lines and sharp edges that were slowly fading away from her memory. Keela didn't want to forget him despite the dull pain in her heart and oh, how she missed him.
Gentle fingers held her marked hand as he turned it over and over, touching the anchor with care. His magic burned blue as he tried to pull the power from her. Nothing he did could free her from the power of the orb and frustration was pulling his features down into an ugly grimace.
Keela watched as he took a knife from his robes and started to saw away at the flesh of her wrist. Surprise sang from her throat and Solas looked right at her in the dream. He rose, bloody dagger and her bodiless hand in his grasp, and stalked towards her. He gazed at her with many red eyes full of fury and nightmares and leaking black tears.
'You are nothing but a mistake,' he said, but it was Corypheus' voice that spoke through him. 'You are nothing.'
And she screamed and screamed, body cradling in on itself to protect her from him. The temple seemed to swirl around her and break apart with thunderous crackling. The wind carried claws with it that scratched against her exposed skin.
The world went quiet and she felt a hand upon her arm that cooled and soothed the many wounds. She dared to look up and found Solas smiling at her. He was different, younger, with hair swirling into ropes on the top of his head and lean chest bare save for the jawbone hanging against his skin. Seeing him with hair shocked her enough, but this wild appearance made her speechless.
He held a hand out to her, eyes lit up with tints of green swirling in blue depths. 'You are everything,' he said, in a voice that was and wasn't his own.
'Solas...' She took his hand and it felt like ice.
'But you are a fool,' he said, not unkindly.
'I know.'
Pieces of glass began to rain down on them. As they crashed to the ground they turned into luminescent liquid and made sweet sighs until a symphony of voices seemed to sing around them. Keela watched as fangs broke through the smile on Solas' face. She didn't move away as he approached, but tilted her head back in blissful invitation. Lips brushed against her skin and she trembled not from fear but from desire.
Teeth ripped into her throat, sharp and painful, and she woke with eyes wide and cheeks wet.
Keela hugs her arms as wind blows through the battlements, but it is more to keep herself from shivering at the memory. She wants to make sense of all the things she dreamed, but there is no sense to be found in the twisting of the Fade. It makes her all the more frustrated.
"Inquisitor?"
Eyes sweep to the side to find Cullen approaching. He is stripped of armor and instead wears the ruffled cloak over a white shirt and tanned breeches. She's not sure she's ever seen him in anything but his full outfitting and finds it a little difficult to ignore his broad chest and trim waist. She lifts her gaze and forces herself to concentrate on the concerned color of his eyes.
"Is everything all right?"
No."Yes, just some bad dreams. I suppose I don't need to tell you how they can steal away all thoughts of further sleep. I can only suspect you're suffering from the same to be out here walking the battlements too?"
As he moves to stand next to her, Cullen gives a nod. Together they gaze out at the world beyond Skyhold. There isn't much to see in the deep darkness, not even for Keela's enhanced eyes, but the void is comforting in some way. She can be anything in it or nothing at all.
"Are they getting better?" she asks.
"They are not as difficult as before, nor as frequent. Most nights I can sleep through them without waking, but every once in a while they take me unawares."
"Do you think they'll ever stop?"
"I don't know, but I will endure them. No dream could be worse than what my reality would have been if I was still connected to that life."
"Your strength has always been a great encouragement. And I'm so very glad you were so very horrible at convincing me to make you continue taking that wretched stuff."
He lets out a low laugh. She can feel his eyes appraising her and can't find the daring to glance back. Not long ago she would gladly stare down a dragon if need be, but things are different now. She is different in a way that makes her feel...less. She hates it.
Cullen clears his throat. "Inquisitor-"
"Fenedhis," she curses, but there is no real anger in it, only fond annoyance. "We've been fighting and working side by side for almost two years now, Cullen. We are friends and you do not need to call me that when we're off duty. If I have to command you to be informal, I will do so with a fireball aimed at your head, I swear it."
He gives an earnest laugh at that and Keela's own smile is pulled along with it. "Fair enough. I just...I wanted-"
Keela turns to see him rubbing the back of his neck as he looks anywhere but at her now. It's an interesting thing to see her Commander seem unsettled. She's used to him charging into battle with a cry full of power, or seeing his assuredness at the war table. She's witnessed him in the throes of withdrawal but this, what is it? Shyness?Keela shifts to him, the landscape beyond forgotten.
"Yes?"
When he turns to her again his face is soft but eyes determined. "I know the past few months have been...difficult for you. Maker knows it's never been easy I'm sure, but if there's anything you need, as your advisor and friend, I am here to help in any way."
But she understands his hesitant composure now. She doesn't even need the wisdom of the well to reveal this truth. The quiet of his words is not meant for just friendship, the warmth in his gaze hinting at greater comforts. He might not even know it himself, she suspects he doesn't, but it is a gift held out on open palm. Keela takes a breath, hoping he doesn't notice how panic makes her fingers twitch. She stops herself from taking a step away, from sprinting down the steps and abandoning him.
"We've all noticed how hard you've been pushing yourself lately. I know you're strong enough to take on all of Thedas by yourself if need be, but you don't have to endure anything alone...Keela."
"I don't want to endureit at all. I want-" she stops herself, realizing she's practically snarling at a man who does not deserve even an ounce of her vehemence, but her name rumbling through the deep timbres of his voice makes her suddenly very conscience of the small distance between them and the deep divide inside her. She lets out a shaking breath. "Forgive me. I'm...I..."
"It's all right, I understand," he says and she can almost believe him. He takes a step back towards his tower. She pictures Solas moving away from her, pulling back after pouring so much into simple caresses and words. Always leaving. It took her too long to realize he was gone from the start.
"I should try to get some rest, as should you if you can. I can only imagine Josephine's big announcement tomorrow will be anything but wonderful, as she claims." His smile is more of a smirk at that, but his eyes remain warm, welcoming. "If you should need me-"
"Wait."
It's the openness of his expression that makes her blurt it out. He's not pulling away, but giving her space, and it makes all the difference in the world.
"You could stay, if you wanted. Or I could make us calming root tea, Dalish specialty. I haven't had some in quite some time," she says, unable to keep the wistfulness from her voice.
Cullen moves forward, reclaiming lost ground and then some. "If you think it will help..."
Keela looks into his eyes, not sure what exactly lies within or what she truly wishes to find, only knowing she is willing to look. "Yes...yes, I think it will."