Greeting friends and anons! This was either an idea born from either a prompt I saw, a conglomeration of several or a conjuration of an idea after gorging myself on Solas information after finishing the game. I have not written fanfic in yeeeeears, so this is growing pains on my part.
Anywho, SUPER ENDING SPOILERS in this story. If you haven't finished the game and don't want to be spoiled don't read this. Go roll an elf, romance Solas, finish the game, cry and then come talk to me :)
A few notes to make, this story takes places immediately after the defeat of Corypheus but BEFORE the epilogue.
This story features the Lavellan clan NOT moving around as they very, very likely did in the lore. For the purposes of this story, they stay put for awhile!
Also, the poetry used in the story is most assuredly not my own. The first is a poem called "She Comes Not" by Herbert Trench. The second is "Because She Would Ask Me Why I Loved Her" by Christopher Brennan. Both beautiful pieces, go Google them and love them on their own :)
Also, I imagined the Fen'Harel statue to be like the piddly one in DA Origins! Not the giant, beautiful, regal wolves that we see in the Temple of Mythal xD
I encourage anyone who likes the Solas x Lavellan pairing to somehow contribute to the conversation online! Write a fanfic, favorite a post somewhere, draw something, say something on the forums. Let's make sure Bioware knows that we want moooore in DLC/Expansion! (And perhaps a happy ending for the two? YAAAAAAS) :)
Thanks for reading cuties!
Update 12/01/2014: Light editing pass. Also, I'm so floored and humbled by the positive response! Thank you so much for your kind words and encouragement :) More Solas/Lavellan to come!
Night had long fallen as Solas crossed into the forest clearing, hundreds of stars dotting the wide expanse above him on a cool autumn's night. The journey of the day had worn on him as he stopped briefly to assess the clearing that he had crossed into.
"A good spot as any to camp," he muttered softly, as he began to investigate the perimeter. Fog traced the edges of the brush as he carefully searched for signs of creatures or danger. But as he walked around the clearing, his stroll was interrupted by the sight of a small patch of purple wildflowers. Amused, he bent down to inspect them. "Fascinating that they still bloom this time of year." As he reached down to touch one, it was then that he felt it. A small ripple in the Veil, so minute, it was nothing but a small pinprick on his finger. He smiled to himself. There may be something small worth dreaming here tonight. It would be a welcome distraction from thoughts of...
'In another world...'
'Why not this one?' she had pleaded tearfully, stepping towards him imploringly. Hurt and suffering had punctured every word as she begged him to reconsider. When he thought of her now, he saw the face of one twisted in pain and despair. The face that haunted him was the one he saw as he had walked away from her that night.
"I can't, Thalassa..." he said aloud, the name still sweet on his lips. He shook his head, pushing it out. It was not worth further consideration. Continued recollection would serve only to drive him mad.
And so Solas set to work on creating wards, ensuring his safety while he dreamt in the Fade. When he was satisfied, Solas laid down next to the patch of wildflowers and relaxed his body. He allowed himself to stare briefly at the night sky, studying the soft twinkling stars above. There was a peace he felt that was almost... unnatural. It was soothing, he admitted, but he did not like how easy it felt to fall in to.
The world slowly faded, like the lines of sunlight drifting from the sky as dusk settled to nightfall, and he passed into his dreaming. The landscape dissolved to be replaced by a cool gray mist. He was between worlds now, waiting to discover what secrets this place held.
After a time, he began to stir. Now in the Fade, he stood up and began to assess his surroundings that were slowly coming back into view. It was then, with great surprise and amusement, that he beheld the wolf statue that appeared. It had appeared alone, before even the world faded back into view.
"Curious that I should be here," he chuckled as he approached it with a knowing smile. The statue of Fen'Harel that had once rested here featured the creature seated on his hind legs, his front legs rigid and poised, ready to jump into action if needed. The look on the creature's face was not as feral or horrifying as others he had witnessed. It gave him no small amount of pleasure to see that it looked like a normal wolf. "These are memories you held and allowed to linger here. I see."
The landscape then shifted abruptly and a cold rain suddenly engulfed him, water and wind pelting him in the face. The clearing had returned, now sufficiently saturated with what must have been days of heavy rain. Thunder rumbled sharply in the distance, ominous and low as it reverberated in his chest.
It was then, out of the darkness of the forest, that a small body burst forth from the brush and collapsed onto the ground with a wet splash. The small child, a young girl, was sprawled out trembling and pitiful. She was completed drenched from the rain, her legs, clothes and face splattered with wet dirt and strings of wet grass that clung to her tattered clothes. There were small cuts on her legs and arms, cause by the edges of the sharp brush she had raced through. As she lifted her head, large tears spilled from her eyes as she let go a heaving sob. He noticed the purplish welt on her cheek, clearly having been struck by something or someone. He ached quietly for the young girl who clenched her fists in frustration and pounded the puddle she was laying in, splashing more mud into her face.
"I hate them!" she cried out loudly, slamming her fists into the puddles again. A low rumble of thunder could be heard, causing her to shiver with fear. She then took her arm and tried to wipe around her eyes. Smearing the mud across her pale face, her tear-filled emerald eyes stared into the darkness and right at him. He tensed as he studied the girl carefully, her features familiar in a strange and distant way. Something horrifying knotted in his chest as he assessed her and how familiar she truly was to him.
'It cannot be...' he thought anxiously as he watched the child sit up and look around her, her body still heaving with deep sobs. The girl of no more than seven sighed heavily as she tried to calm herself and began to study the forest clearing around her. It was then that her eyes fell upon the wolf statue that she had landed close to and she looked up to it with a gaze of fear and uncertainty.
"You're the Trickster," she said aloud. She whimpered a small sob as she took her arm and wiped the mucus from her nose and upper lip. That she succeeded in smearing it across her cheek made Solas smile wryly as he watched her sidle up on her knees next to the statue. She planted her bottom next to it and looked up expectantly. "You are the one who hunts alone. Betrayer," she told it. "No one likes you, dread wolf." Solas knew his expression was grim as he listened. He had heard the telling countless times over the ages. This should bother him no more than any other. But to hear it from a child that looked like it could be-
"No one likes me either," the little girl announced, more tears spilling from her eyes as her bottom lip quivered. She pulled her knees up to her face and hugged them to her shaking body. "I wasn't born in this clan. My father was killed and my mother and I ran into the woods. Bad men were chasing us. Mamae was hurt... she fell down when we reached the camp. She died." Solas drew in a sharp breath, realizing that the child's story matched that of Thalassa's.
'No, no, no. This is coincidence surely,' he insisted. He recounted the night in Skyhold that Thalassa told him the story. Her eyes held much pain, and she could not look at him while she recounted the tale. But she did not cry. Her voice was firm and strong as she had told him. She had no more tears to shed for her mother and father, for they had long been drained from her.
'My father was killed when I was still a child. He worked as a cook in a noble's estate and was blamed for stealing. He was killed because the kitchen was missing two silver spoons from a set that was gifted to the noble by the Orlesian Empress. My mother panicked and fled with me to seek out the Dalish after his murder. Her grandmother was Dalish, and she had always loved telling me her grandmother's wild stories. She thought that finding the Dalish would mean freedom for us. The noble wasn't content to let my mother go free, and he pursued us with others. We were chased into the wood and she was pierced by an arrow. She died when we reached the Lavellan clan as they were traveling to their next camp.' Solas recalled the telling as he watched the child lean her body against the statue, her head nuzzling it gently from the side.
"The Keeper let me stay with the clan... but no one likes me. They all call me flat-ear. They tell me I'm ugly... they say..." she whimpered, biting her lip and trying to force back more tears, "They say that Mamae should've died because she wasn't a real elf." She bit down on her lower lip harder as hot tears swelled down her cheeks again, mixing in with the rain that was blotching the mud off of her face. The pain that gripped his stomach tightened harder as he watched, trying to come to terms with what he was witnessing.
"Why do they say that? Why do they not like me? I... I'm like them, aren't I?" she asked quietly, her eyes turning up towards the wolf, his gaze piercing into the night. Solas' heart broke as he watched her struggle with the question, the pain that was etched into the child's face cut him deeply and he longed to reach out to her. To hold her and whisper kindness to her. Instead she was alone, shivering in the rain. Solas stepped up to the child and knelt down next to her, studying the welt on her face, resisting the urge to reach out to her.
"Did they hit you I wonder?" he queried softly, his voice gentle as though he were actually addressing her and not the Fade's memory. As though she understood, her small trembling fingers reached up and touched the bruise on her face.
"They threw rocks at me... because I wouldn't let them cut my hair... but they still..." It was then that Solas noticed the clump of hair that was cut much shorter than the rest. "Namie told the boys that she wanted me to be uglier... one of them found a knife..." She whimpered again, more tears flowing down her cheeks. This time however, she flung her arms around the statue, crying into its stone pelt. He felt light-headed from the fury and emotion that washed over him in that moment. That this child suffered so...
He watched as the girl wiped her face sloppily, a horrible mess of an ill-treated child that clearly wanted love, warmth and reassurance. It was heart-wrenching. Her eyes then turned upward to the wolf's face that she was embracing now. She unwrapped her arms and leaned back, regarding it quietly for a moment. The rain was beginning to slow.
"No one likes me... and no one likes you either..." she said softly. He sucked in a deep breath as he watched her hand, caked with mud, tears and snot, began to pet the statue affectionately. Soft and lovingly, her hand traced the gentle curve of its head between the ears. The movements left a muddy mark upon the wolf's white coat, each stain washed away by the slow, gentle rain that now fell. It clearly calmed her as she regarded the creature gently, thoughtfully. "You and I are both alone." She continued to pet him as she blinked a few more tears free from her eyes.
"My name is Thalassa."
His gut twisted in agony. It was her. This was the woman he loved, shown before him as this small, forgotten child. It was too much to see her like this. And yet he continued to watch as he saw her reaching out, yearning to feel love and affection—from anything or anyone. Even a god cast down into ridicule. Lonely, betrayed, and alone. Despite his own reputation, she was drawn to it by virtue of her own solitude.
"Will you be my friend, Fen'Harel?" It was this that made him bite his knuckle, trying to hold back a searing pain that burned along his cheekbones and at the edges of his eyes. He bowed his head in frustration, gritting back regret and sorrow as he listened.
"We don't have to be alone anymore. I'll be your friend. We don't need them," she whispered gently. Then suddenly, she threw her arms around the wolf, embracing him as tightly as her tiny arms could grip it. "We can have each other." A stifled sob escaped his lips, as he covered his eyes with his palm trying to not to weep. How could this be? What kind of cruel, sick joke was this? She unknowingly called out to him, unwittingly was drawn to him by reason of his being an outcast and then sought comfort in his image, even as a betrayer and trickster.
"They laugh at us, Vhenan," he muttered, pain accenting every word that he barked through gritted teeth. "They know what we cannot have. What we can never-"
"We can be friends," she said, a small smile spreading across her lips as she interrupted him. The statement pleased her greatly as she nuzzled her wounded cheek next to the wolf's side affectionately. "You'll listen to me. And I'll come visit you." She sat there now in silence, the rain had all but stopped, dissolving into a thin mist that kept the air moist and crisp. Solas had regained composure of himself as he continued to watch her. Her exhaustion was clearly catching up to her as he watched their silence, sleep tugging at her eyes as she continued to lean against him. "Thank you... my friend..." she mumbled, drifting off to sleep so deeply as only a child can. He shook his head.
"No more." And the world vanished. Where there should be only blankness, a vast misty gray canvas that waited for dreams to be painted upon them, the marble wolf still stood. Alone. The Fen'Harel statue continued to gaze back at him, as though waiting for his permission. He smiled grimly as he regarded it. "Is there more, my friend?" he asked bitterly.
And with his question daylight broke and the forest was alive once again. Instead of the rainy night, he regarded the piles of yellowed and brown leaves that littered the forest floor. The branches, all but empty of their charges, filtered the brilliant glow of the late afternoon autumn sun, casting long, pointed shadows upon him. It was then that he heard the heavy crunching of leaves as someone raced through the brush. Bursting forth from the bushes, a girl darted out, her giggles floating in the crisp autumn air.
Thirteen year-old Thalassa Lavallen giggled playfully as she bounded up to Fen'Harel, excitement painted upon her soft face. The skirts of her dress were torn and the edges frayed with dried mud. A few wild leaves decorated her long auburn tresses, Solas noticed. She had been in a great hurry. What baffled him was that she truly came back to the statue.
"Hahren, you will never guess what happened today!" she exclaimed, pure joy laced into her breaths and words as she bounded to Fen'Harel. The rapid change from sorrow to joy was much needed as he allowed a thin smile. That she called him Hahren was not lost on him either. And it brought him no small joy.
"Tell me, da'len," he said softly, barely above a whisper. Truthfully, he was embarrassed to continue the charade of a conversation. To indulge himself could only yield more sorrow. Yet it humored him in a dark comfort that pushed him to continue.
He watched as Thalassa cleared her throat and straightened her back, stilling herself to try and look confident and poised before Fen'Harel. The corner of his lips turned upward as he watched her face fall gravely serious. She lifted her arm, extended out her hand and cupped her palm upward towards the sky. She began to concentrate. Solas felt the small spark in the air as she centered herself on the palm of her hand. He continued to smile as he knew what this memory must entail.
It was then that a small fire burst to life in her hands, the gentle flame lapping in her hand as she laughed with mirth and joy.
"Do you see, Hahren?!" she exclaimed wildly. "I am a mage! MAGIC!" She closed her palm, the flame collapsing upon herself as she giggled again, her youthful glee almost uncontainable as she jumped in placed and danced. "You should have seen Namie's face!" Thalassa sighed as she stilled herself, attempting to contain herself between fits of giggles. "I am so sorry, Hahren, I will calm myself."
Taking another deep breath that was punctured by a final stifled snort, Thalassa seated herself before the wolf, back straight as though she were addressing her elder. Entertaining the memory more than he should, he walked around her and seated himself next to Fen'Harel's statue watching her close her eyes and center herself.
"When you are ready, da'len, I will hear your story," he told her. She open her eyes and looked up to the statue, a deep breath escaping her as a more composed smile appeared.
"This morning I had been complimented by Sarrell on my marksmanship. He said that I was improving quickly and was impressed by my accuracy," Thalassa beamed. "Namie, of course, loving the much older Sarrell as she does, was furious. So what does she do? While I was eating lunch she ruined the arrows that I had fletched that morning, pulled out ALL of the feathers and had strewn them around where I had left them. She had the nerve to claim that a wild animal had somehow snuck into the camp, the fool!" Thalassa huffed and folded her arms across her chest in a flamboyant display of emotion. Solas laughed, not used to seeing such raw highs of emotion from his generally guarded beloved. He supposed that all young teenagers were such, but he had truly not expected such a display.
"You are right to call this Namie a fool. She is utterly beneath you and undeserving to know you. What did you do then?"
"When I came back to gather my things, I saw the mess that Namie had made. The others were laughing, of course, and Namie looked as a innocent a full-bellied snake. She told me her sorry tale as the others continued laughing. Sarrell was kind enough to try and intercede on my behalf, but all I could think of was how much I hated Namie and her smugness for her stupid insult. I then looked at her hair and thought, 'Burn!' and lo the edges of her hair burst into flame!" Thalassa clapped her hands gleefully as she threw her head back and laughed. Solas chuckled with her, enjoying how excitable she was.
"The poor harpy screamed and rolled in the grass like a pig in the mud to put it out! Her friends just stood there stupidly! One even laughed at her!" Thalassa's chuckles subsided as she looked up to Fen'Harel again. "The Keeper was actually pretty understanding of it all. She made sure that Namie was OK and then congratulated me on my gift. She said that accidents tend to happen when mages discover their talents..." she paused then and hesitated, "She told me that she was proud of me."
Solas regarded Thalassa quietly as she thought on what she had just said. Her face fell into a serious expression.
"She's never said that to me before. No one has... since Mamae." She chewed her lower lip as she continued to dwell on the thought and he could feel the wave of joy subsiding, giving way to thought and gentle reflection. "It's not enough to make me want to stay here forever though."
Silence fell to her lips again as she let the noise of leaves fluttering in a sharp breath of autumn wind take over. She regarded her hands again and watched as she created the small flame in her palm, almost effortlessly. He watched as the flame danced in the wind and the light reflected in her eyes. She searched the flickering light that she had created, her thoughts unvoiced. Her brow creased and she closed her palm suddenly, determination etched into her face as she regarded Fen'Harel's statue again.
"I'll ask again, Hahren. Take me away from here." And suddenly the scene had shifted from autumn to winter. Where leaves had once covered the ground, snow now replaced it. Small flakes, spat from the small tufts of passing clouds above, now filled the empty space where the cold night had fallen. Thalassa still sat before the statue, a dark cloak now drawn around her, the hood placed loosely upon her head. The clouded moon cast a faint light upon her, she was now a little bit taller, her cheeks slightly fuller.
Sixteen year-old Thalassa Lavellan was more severe than her last iteration and her red cheeks now bore the markings that she had come to detest—the vallaslin. The simple design she chose wove faintly under her eyes and he could see redness around it, not caused solely by the cold. She had clearly received them recently.
"The elders of the clan are accepting, but those of my age... they still regard me with disdain," she grimaced. "I cannot help it if I am simply more mature than them. I will not stunt myself on their behalf," she scoffed. Solas remembered Thalassa telling him that she had received her vallaslin much earlier than the others of her age group. Thalassa had told him about how the Keeper always had a tender spot for her, and saw the intelligence and maturity that she possessed at so young of age. It had boded well for her with the Keeper and other elders, but not with those who are also young and endeavored to be in the Keeper's good graces. "They laugh at how faint it is. They say, 'The creators do not favor Thalassa and cast their gaze away, for she carries the vallaslin that only a flat-ear could wear.'"
"You do not wish their eyes upon you, da'len. Believe me," Solas frowned, thinking of the horror etched into Thalassa's face as he revealed the truth of the vallaslin markings—slave markings. "You do not belong to them."
"It is appropriate though, Hahren. I think..." she sighed softly, relaxing as she tried to find peace. "In truth they are right, I am not one of them. Nor will I ever truly be. And this is why I want you to take me away." He watched as she rose to her feet, pushing the snow to the ground that had collected on her shoulders and lap. She stared quietly at Fen'Harel from under her hood, her eyes pleading and uneasy. "I... I have kept something from you, Hahren." This caught Solas' interest as he regarded her, prodded by her shy, searching demeanor.
"Oh? You admit this freely? Then relieve your secret upon me, da'len," he spoke, curiosity lacing his words. Even while in this memory, his words were muffled with the insular effect of the snowfall. The world was still and hushed between the two of them and Thalassa shuffled her weight to another leg as she shifted nervously.
"I've been having dreams, Hahren. I dream of you." Her eyes then drew shyly to her hands, as she tugged nervously on the leather gloves she wore. "Y-you call to me. You ask me to wake you." Solas' eyes widened at the ramifications of what she was suggesting.
"This... this cannot..." Solas muttered as he shook his head as he considered the gravity of her suggestion. "I did no such thing in my slumber..." he protested quietly in disbelief.
"It's true," Thalassa chuckled nervously as she looked up to the statue, regarding it affectionately. "It was a snowy night such as this one. In the dream, I was woken from sleep by your voice in the night. Carried on winter's breath you asked me to come to you." She began to shyly walk towards him. "And so I came. The entire camp fell into a deep slumber from your spell, as you wanted to ensure that only I came to you. When I saw you, you were glowing faintly. Even though the snow fell upon you, it melted... because you were warm with life." Solas watched as a she placed a hand upon the head of the wolf and wrapped it around the back of its head, pushing the gathered snow from its noble crown. She held it affectionately as her thumb caressed the side of its muzzle.
"What then, da'len?" Solas asked quietly as he watched.
"Then... you told me that you were locked in a dream. You have been with me all this time and can bear the separation no more. But you could not free yourself. Only... " she swallowed and hesitated, her cheeks reddening, "Only with true love's kiss could you awaken." Solas felt a sharp pain twist in his stomach again, the cut like that of a cold shiv seared a deep wound inside.
"Vhenan..." he whispered softly, the ache of lost love crossing both of their faces.
"I kissed you and you woke," she said, her voice trembling. "I cannot recall your face, it matters not to me. But... you woke. You were real," she paused. The thumb continued to rub at his muzzle affectionately. "And you loved me." Gritting his teeth again, Solas tore his eyes away and heaved a heavy sigh, unsure how to process what he was seeing.
"Madness..." he growled, shaking his head. "This is..."
"Hahren," the earnestness of her voice pulled him back to look at her. "Please forgive me for what I am about to do." With the same resolve that he saw in her eyes before their first kiss in the Fade, Thalassa descended and planted a kiss upon Fen'Harel's cold head. Solas watched as the quick kiss ended and Thalassa stepped back, her eyes wide and waiting. And yet, nothing happened. The snow continued to drift in the quiet wind and the emptiness of winter's night filled the silence. Her expression fell as she let tears fall from her eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I'm such a fool..." She turned from him, embarrassed as she folded her hands and looked down into the snow.
It was then that Solas stood up quickly and strode next to her, walking to her side to see more tears fall onto her gloved hands. He regarded her sadly as she cried quietly. He tried to place a hand on her shoulder only to watch it slip through her. A pained look passed across his face, yet he still spoke to her.
"In time," he began, "You will give me that same look, Vhenan. You will boldly steal a kiss from me again." He knew she couldn't hear him. He knew this had already come to pass. Nevertheless, he couldn't help himself but to address her. "And I will not let you turn away from me this time." He smiled through his heartache. "No, I will not allow a kiss to be stolen from me and I not receive my due in return," he chided playfully. He continued to smile sadly to himself as he walked around her, looking up into the night sky. "No, for your one kiss, you will pay with hundreds more. For your one kiss, you will pay with soft, lingering glances stolen between battles. For your one kiss, you will suffer sweet words whispered to you in the night." He stopped and regarded her again, standing directly in front of her. "For your one kiss, you will have me. In body, mind," he paused, "and spirit."
And then she looked up at him. It surprised him such that he shifted back a bit as her pleading eyes turned upward towards him, tears streaming freely as she looked up to the night sky beyond where he stood. But in that moment, her eyes seared into him, heartache painted openly in her brow as she searched.
"Vhenan," he whispered painfully, as he began to reach his hand upward to her face. Suddenly, she sniffled and nodded, her head turned back towards the statue with a sad smile, drawing away from Solas.
"I understand, Hahren. Not yet. Forgive me for my rashness." She bowed quickly and made a hasty exit. She continued to wipe her eyes free of tears as she moved quickly, her cloak trailing after her in the wind. Again, he was alone with the statue.
The silence of the snowfall hung heavily in the air as he watched her leave. Truly, how could he ever have imagined such a thing unfolding? The very idea of it, the cruelty and the joy of it, tore at him mercilessly. That she was so desperate to converse with an idea, a depiction of him was strange and joyous enough. But the dreams she spoke of...
Solas was pulled from his musings by another shift in the memories. The winter's snow had faded away and had given sudden birth to a new spring. Families of songbirds chirped in the trees and the once barren branches now held the bounty of the fresh leaves.
It was here that he beheld again the small patch of purple wildflowers. They bloomed around the base of the statue and he took in a deep breath of the clear warm spring air as he tried to relax. He looked around for the span of several minutes, but was curious to not see Thalassa appearing yet in the memory. The previous memories had been surprisingly well-tailored to him, not carrying much time between visions. He smiled to himself, sure that he would hear wildly bounding steps of her youth soon.
Yet as he continued to wait, she did not appear. Solas sighed and wondered perhaps if he would need to seek this one out for his own.
"She comes not when Noon is on the roses—Too bright is Day." A woman's voice. Soft, mellow, purring prose wound in spring's breeze as he had just begun to take his first step.
"She comes not to the Soul till it reposes From work and play." The sweet chant was drawing closer, the rich rhythm of this low voice elicited an ache inside of him.
"But when Night is on the hills, and the great Voices Roll in from Sea." The anticipation of her arrival left him breathless. Exactly how many years had elapsed from the last memory he wondered.
"By starlight and candlelight and dreamlight." He drew in a quick breath as he saw long familiar fingers pull away the branch before him. And he beheld the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes upon.
"She comes to me."
Nineteen year-old Thalassa Lavellan entered the clearing with the grace a poise of a blossoming maiden. She lacked the distinguished elegance of when he fell in love with her at Skyhold. And yet in this time she elicited the raw beauty that only one just arrived at the threshold of adulthood could bear. She wore her thick auburn locks long, the fringes that framed her face pulled back and nestled neatly among her long tresses. She wore a dress of deep emerald with a plunging neckline that gave ample view of the curves of her milky, swollen breasts. She carried herself, even then, with a knowing poise. One who holds herself with a self-assured confidence and determination. And in this confidence, she exuded a sexuality that one holds when it is a new found treasure. Solas did not stifle the hungry growl that stirred in his throat, as something primal awoke within.
"Ma Vhenan, you are..." he moaned, words failing him. He was snapped back to alertness as she closed the book in her hand with a loud thump and regarded Fen'Harel gently. She affectionately patted him on the head.
"Happy Spring to you, Hahren. I've brought you a gift from our feast," she smirked. She pulled a band of flowers from her wrist and gently placed them upon the wolf's head like a crown. Her eyes lit up playfully as she regarded him. Solas chuckled at the gesture. "I knew you would be pleased. You cannot always hide under your scowl." She gracefully seated herself before the wolf in her same spot and she bowed her head respectfully towards him. Transfixed, Solas returned to his previous position by the wolf's side as he listened to her speak.
"You will enjoy today's tales I am sure, Hahren," she grinned. "But do not be jealous, fear not."
"Oh? Jealous how, da-" he paused. He regarded Thalassa who now fished for something in the bag she carried. His eyes fell upon the ample cleavage and he swallowed hard as the blood began to drain from his stomach to his lower body. "Ma lath," he corrected himself as he blushed and regarded her fair face again. With a triumphant chuckle, she grinned and produced a small animal foot from her bag. She held it up for him to view.
"Take note, Hahren. This poor artifact is what remains of a pelt I was presented today," she told him with a knowing smirk.
"A pelt... does this mean that you-"
"Yevran proposed to me today," she announced happily. Solas suddenly felt his stomach drop. She had never mentioned another before. Was she involved with this man? Did they-
"And I burned the pelt before his eyes," she told him triumphantly, emerald eyes glistening. Solas let out a breath he did not realize that he was holding. "Now, before you tease me, I truly did NOT mean to do this at first. I was very polite in my first refusal. And my second. And then my third. The man would not take no for an answer and likened my refusal to 'the mysterious and dainty ways of flustered young ladies.'" She chuckled wryly, "I showed him exactly how dainty I can be." She threw the poor fox's leg onto the ground and sighed heavily. Solas smiled as he gazed upon his love and her fiery resolve. This is a side of her that he saw in a much more controlled manner as an adult. As a young adult, however, she clearly kindled a spirited passion that made her all the more... enticing. "It was a pretty pelt and I am sorry for the loss of the creature to such a fool errand." Another heavy sigh, another shudder of her breasts that caught his eyes hungrily.
"Control yourself," he growled, chastising himself as he again returned his attention to her flushed face.
"After his failed attempts he then appealed to the Keeper like a small child whining about a lost toy. As expected, the Keeper was entirely amused at his whining and did not relent to his insistence upon a match. What a fool," she said. "Truly they all are like this, Hahren. None of the men, no, boys of this clan are what I am seeking. They care only for how well they can shoot their shemlen," she spat the word. She had confided in Solas how much she had loathed the insult previously. "Or how well they can string a bow, or how must bluster they can blow over tales, which they do NOT recall correctly," she huffed hurriedly. "For instance, just today Varran tried to retell one of the Keeper's stories and I had to correct him at least seven times." She sighed again and slumped slightly, looking off into the distant brush. "They are not what I want." A pregnant pause. Solas swallowed.
"Tell me then, what it is you want?" Solas asked, silently hoping that it was going where he thought it might. He was happily obliged.
"What I want... is a man of class," she smiled softly. She began to absently play with her hair as she stared off shyly. "He doesn't have to be a mage, but it is preferable. I'd like to be able to learn and grow with him in the magical arts, I think. I want a man who is cunning and wise, can manipulate reality with words and careful action, instead of brute force. He is confident in his abilities and determined in his manner. He is guided by his keen moral compass, and does not stray from it for sex or wealth. A man who..." she paused, her words trailing off as she looked up towards Fen'Harel, heat now radiating from her cheeks. "Who will satisfy the passions that keep me awake at night and... who can answer the questions I ask of my body when I touch it."
"Oh sweet mercy," Solas growled, gritting his teeth in tortuous agony as he listened, sucking in a deep and pained breath. Blood pooled lower and lower in his body as he regarded her, wanted her. Her composure mirrored his own, wanting and desirous. Her gaze was unwavering from Fen'Harel. It was apparent that she now held Fen'Harel as something more. No longer just a friend, confidant and Hahren. Her imagination had spun him into a desire.
"I still have the dreams, you know," she told him, her voice low and lustful. "With age and maturity it has become something... erotic. When I come to free you, you whisper things to me at night that I can..." she paused nervously, biting her pliant lower lip as she sought the right words. "Soft, sweet ministrations of love and desire that you whisper in all corners and crevices of my body. When I free you from your bonds, it is you who binds me and plays wantonly. When I am almost at my peak, it is a lustful symphony of Elvish that you lavish upon me as you tug on my ears with your teeth. You have a marvelous appetite for my begging and moaning. And I am yours to command." Solas was breathing heavily as he watched her do the same. The desire that passed between them and yet unconnected was heavy and almost overwhelming. "We... we free one another in the night."
"Ma sa'lath, I crave you in the night," he began speaking without pause or consideration, the ache too much. Solas did not realize that he had even stood up and moved towards her until he had already begun speaking. "The loneliness of centuries is erased with the swath of your tongue on my body. The disappointment of betrayal is banished with the press of your lips upon mine. The emptiness of my heart is filled with the cries of pleasure that only I can elicit from your flesh." He realized now how close he was to her. The fresh wanting of this young spirit, inexperienced and yearning for desires unreached was almost too much... and yet it was not the face before him that made him harden with desire in this moment. He hesitated. "It is you I want, Inquisitor." And the Thalassa he thought of was the woman with the mark upon her hand. The woman he met at Haven. The woman he had led to Skyhold. The Herald. Proud, regal, elegant... The ache throbbed longingly again for her.
"Forgive my ramblings, Hahren. I... I am distracting myself, I'm afraid," she chuckled sheepishly as she picked up the book she held again, seeking any kind of distraction. Solas slowed his breath as she also attempted to compose herself in turn. He backed away from her, slowly. "One of the hunters found this in the wood after a week-long hunt. It is a long abandoned book of human poetry. Fortunately for me, no one else in the clan seemed interested. Allow me to read you another, Hahren. The prose and fiction of humans is of interest to me."
Solas smiled as he took note that this had not changed. For all of the scholarly works that Thalassa had poured over, he occasionally noticed the questionable literature that was tucked in her tall stacks of notable books on her desk. Any question to her regarding it would be deflected as a joke or a mistake. However, he noticed the embarrassment in her voice as she quickly tried to change the subject. It was only when he had offered to act out such a novel that she was happy to... divulge the specific nature of its content. The memory brought a feral grin to his lips.
"If questioning would make us wise
No eyes would ever gaze in eyes;
If all our tale were told in speech
No mouths would wander each to each.
Were spirits free from mortal mesh
And love not bound in hearts of flesh
No aching breasts would yearn to meet
And find their ecstasy complete.
For who is there that lives and knows
The secret powers by which he grows?
Were knowledge all, what were our need
To thrill and faint and sweetly bleed?
Then seek not, sweet, the "If" and "Why"
I love you now until I die.
For I must love because I live
And life in me is what you give."
She breathed a contented sigh as she finished the poem, enraptured with emotion.
"I suppose I have stolen enough of your time, Hahren," she said as she rose from her seat. She approached him carefully and Solas saw her stop short of the statue as she regarded something below it. The purple wildflowers. She smiled as she beheld them. "These are coming in nicely this year. I hope they are a color to your liking. I tried to pick something unique to this spot that perhaps you haven't seen before." She then leaned forward and carefully planted a kiss upon his nose. "Dareth shiral, Hahren." A pause and another blush. "My dream lover."
The world around Solas shifted again as the memories lapsed into late summer. Cicadas droned loudly in the heat of summer as the sound carried through the boughs of the canopy. The sweet orange glow of sunset cast faded shadows around him as he adjusted again to the sudden changes of the surroundings. He frowned. It wasn't enough time to recover and process what he had witnessed.
She had been in love with the idea of him. In loneliness and longing she had sought him out. He shook his head in disbelief. Why had she not said anything about this to him? He could understand her desire to never reveal that she had spoken with, for years, a statue devoted to a dark god. But that she had adapted him to her longing imagination. That she had used him to fill the void of what she needed in her life at the time. That she dreamed wantonly of him. To have discovered it in such an intimate manner as this!
"First." The sudden words startled him as he looked down for their owner. He then beheld her seated on the other side of Fen'Harel. Twenty-two year old Thalassa Lavellan looked defeated and sad as she sat clutching her knees to her chest. "First," she repeated again, shaking her head with exasperation. "I should be happy, shouldn't I? No one else was given this honor." She groaned and sunk her head forward into her knees. In a vain effort of commiseration, Solas seated himself next to her.
He was surprised to see her so disappointed with the idea. He assumed what she spoke of was when she had been selected as the Keeper's First, her apprentice. She had confided in him before of her desires to leave the Lavellan clan to study on her own. But she admitted to Solas that she had never fully realized that dream because she was asked to become the Keeper's apprentice. Still, she had seemed to maintain some point of pride of her position when they had spoken previously.
"I never thought I would stay so long, and yet here I am," she sighed. "It's not like it used to be for sure. The clan doesn't despise me as a whole anymore and instead regards me with a warm respect. I have improved much in the ways of my magical ability. I have grown. And yet..." Hesitation and worry contorted her face as she shook her head. "This is not enough. We don't know enough. There is not enough knowledge for me to grow as I want to." She stood up from her seated position and walked forward, looking out into the forests beyond that Fen'Harel watched ceaselessly. Solas watched her walk slowly away, the pace she set being one of thoughtful contemplation. "There is so much of our culture lost to us. And we merely sit upon what little scraps we try to maintain. But what if we haven't even preserved it correctly? What if we have twisted it?" Solas' face fell in sorrow, both as he watched her struggle and in knowing the answer.
"Being First means that the clan relies on me. I can't chase the knowledge as freely as I please when I have to ensure that people actually survive. This is what scares me, Hahren," she sighed, folding her arms across her chest. "I'm afraid of falling into this... sad, resigned comfort. We wallow in a cycle of misery with more pieces of ourselves lost each generation. We either need to reclaim truth, wallow in despair, or..." she paused and turned around to face him and reveling a grim determination. "Create something new." Solas' eyes narrowed as he tried to read her in that moment. It passed quickly however and she shook her head, pacing back towards him.
"I've told you already that we're moving our camp tomorrow. Do not worry, Hahren, as First I volunteered to see to your safe travel and find a good place for you upon arrival," she chuckled as she regarded Fen'Harel warmly. "But there's something important that's been gnawing at me for awhile now. I came to an important conclusion recently and I've... been waiting for the right moment to share." She placed her hand affectionately upon Fen'Harel's head and smiled.
"For many years, I have asked you to save me. Thinking only of my own misery, I called out to you so many times, waiting for the moment when I could free you from your bonds and you could spirit me away." She chewed her lower lip, indicating that she was trying to phrase her words very precisely. "I had been focusing only on me though. And that's not really fair to you is it? It's become clear to me now though, I'm not the one who needs saving anymore. It's you." His heart clenched tightly at this, watching her stroke Fen'Harel's head tenderly.
"You remain banished from the hearts of the Dalish, Hahren. All tales we have of you describe you as either a devious betrayer, a cruel teacher, or a hardened trickster. Yet, I don't believe this to be the case," she told him plainly. "My dreams show you differently. I believe in them. If I can discover only one piece of new knowledge for our culture, I want it to be the true essence of who you are. I will show them that you are more than these cruel stories. I know you are worth saving. Because you already saved me." He stared at her in shock, the swirl of emotion washed plainly upon his face. A panic gripped him, so fierce and so feverish that it swallowed him.
"Even now, you're still lonely, are you not?" He stepped forwards towards her, breath quickening, his pace frenzied.
"I will find you." Unable to compose himself, he reached out to her only to find that his hand slipped through her yet again. He growled audibly and began a string of Elvish curses, emotionally frustrated.
"I will restore you." He sunk to his knees and slammed his fist against the ground angrily, the pain searing through his hand even in the Fade. "And then, we will be together."
"You can't, Vhenan!" he cried out to her finally, his voice frayed with emotion as he pleaded.
"I promise."
"YOU CAN'T SAVE ME!"
He bolted up suddenly from his dreamer's sleep and felt the surge of emotion overtake him as he broke down. Solas wept openly, painfully. Heaving sobs borne of centuries of despair blended together with the memories he had witnessed in a horrific, twisted and beautiful realization.
Their love ran so much deeper than he could have imagined or comprehended. That it spanned over time, history, and legend was overwhelming and powerful. As much as it frightened him it also brought a euphoria that shook him physically now.
But he was lost to her, though. And yet she would be looking for him, would she not? But she could not reach him. Not for all of her spirit and determination. He would remained lost to her.
'You're being grim and fatalistic,' she had purred playfully, her voice echoing in his mind as it endlessly did when he was awake.
"I am grim and fatalistic," he acknowledged aloud between sobs. "But loving you was... it was more than I ever deserved. Being loved from afar is the greatest grace I have ever been given." She was everything to him.
"You have a rare and marvelous spirit, ma lath," he wept, tears still falling from his eyes. Even though the ages had crumbled around him and his people dissolved into a bitter shell of what they once were, she had risen from the ruins of such failures and had thrived. Upon her was borne the promises and prayers of centuries past. Countless failures and years of descent had led to her being awakened and alive.
And her love was worth every damn century of misery he had suffered and wallowed in despair.
He recalled her promises in the Fade. He recalled their long talks and playful chiding over their wild idealism. He recalled passionate vows exchanged in their nights together. He recalled the small girl that clung to his statue, begging for acceptance.
'I will restore you. And then, we will be together.'
Again he beheld the purple wildflowers that bloomed where the wolf's statue once stood. He reached out and picked one, rolling the stem preciously in his trembling fingers. Something exceptional and beautiful placed its first hook in the tatters of his heart as he beheld the flower in his hand. He shuddered as he allowed something small and fragile to take root again.
"Maybe... maybe you really can, ma sa'lath."
Hope.
Miles upon miles away, a woman stood on the balcony of her fortress, gazing out into the snowy mountains ahead. She shivered slightly in the cold night as she reached out a tender hand to the figure mounted on the balcony. Beside her on the terrace, a small, crude wooden figure of a wolf stood facing out towards the mountains, always watching for her sake.
Thirty-two year-old Thalassa Lavallen took a deep breath as she beheld the night over Skyhold.
"I'm close, Solas. I will find you, ma lath."
She smiled.
"I will find you. And then, we will be together."