It's simple, really. I love Solas, but also, wow, that dude is the worst. It's a weird line to walk, loving and hating a character so much at the same time. (He's so well done, though. Wow.)

Anyway, I wanted to explore the idea of a Lavellan who has romanced Solas falling for someone who isn't an ancient god doomed to rip her heart out. So, here we are.

Not written DA fic before, so I'm fairly nervous and out of my comfort zone, but I've had good advance feedback, so I hope you enjoy!

In hindsight, the idea that Leliana wouldn't know exactly where anyone of note goes and who with, let alone the Inquisitor herself, really is a ridiculous one, and Raen Lavellan is an idiot for never realising this earlier.

One day she might even thank her for it. But not today, not tonight.

Tonight she has no wish to be seen by anyone, to feel anything but the damp grass seeping moisture across her palms and into her breeches as she sits bent over in an otherwise empty glade. Sits and screams and sobs as her mind tries to make sense of the whirlwind that has her heart feeling like it's been ripped from her chest as unceremoniously as Solas had completely turned their evening around.

Hand in hand, heart as full of adoration as his eyes as he looked at her -

The truth, a horrible truth that made her feel sick, but a chance to cast it aside and be free of it -

His hands and magic across her face -

Pulling her to her feet, kissing her with as much passion as ever, making her forget about every worry, every stress, every crushing responsibility -

And then: "... I've distracted you from your duty. It will never happen again."

A small part of her, the part unaffected by him, the part that is rational, is shouting at the rest of her, trying to tell her how ridiculous it is that she is so affected by this, that she would let some man crush her very soul with his rejection.

The rest of her isn't listening. It's too busy screaming in sheer, blindingly irrational agony as it feels like her chest is caving in.

She's been here for several hours when she feels hands on her shoulders out of nowhere.

She reacts without thinking and Cassandra - the apparent owner of said hands - gets a fist to the face.

To Cassandra's credit, for all her yelp of surprise, she barely falters, taking the hit with no more than a blink. Lavellan stares up at her, her mind trying to catch up to what is going on, to how Cassandra could be here, of all places. Those questions don't seem quite as important as the trickle of blood now coming from Cassandra's nose.

"Oh gods, I-" Lavellan covers her mouth. "Fuck." Her voice sounds funny. Wrong. She's been crying too long, too hard, been screaming at the universe itself.

"It's nothing," Cassandra says, barely seeming to notice. "My lady, what happened-"

Her sentence disappears into a gasp as Raen looks at her properly for the first time, and in the dim moonlight she can see the mix of shock, awe, and horror on Cassandra's face as she kneels down and reaches out to touch Raen's now unmarked face.

"What did he do to you?" Cassandra asks, voice no more than a furious whisper.

"He - he told me that the markings I've worn all my life with pride were actually slave markings, all those years back, that my people had it wrong, again," Raen says, the bitter fury rising in her throat, anger at her stupid people who somehow tried so hard but never got anything right where it mattered, anger at Solas who had actually used that as a come on that she had fallen for, a second before he shattered her heart into a thousand fragments. "And then he just - left. He left me."

"I-" Cassandra stares at her and swallows. She's still holding her face with one hand, her shoulder with the other. "I'm sorry. I do not know what to say to such a thing."

"How did you find-"

"That doesn't matter now. Can you stand?"

"Of course I - I'm not an invalid, Cassandra," Raen finds herself snapping, like she hasn't just spent the last couple of hours in a hysterical state, unable to move.

Cassandra wisely decides to not reply and simply helps her up.

"Thank you," Raen murmurs, half reluctantly.

"We would not abandon you, Inquisitor, not even to terrors of the heart," Cassandra says to her.

As they head through the short cave route and come to the mouth of it, three more figures become visible, bringing some explanation to her use of the word we.

Sera. Dorian. Bull. Her heart swells. Before the Inquisition, she'd not had many friends, let alone fully understood the concept of true ones and how important and dear they could be.

"There's our girl," Dorian says upon seeing her, a fire in his hand casting surprisingly bright light around them. "Didn't I tell you that-"

His sentence dies as Raen and Cassandra step into the light.

"Well, shit," Bull murmurs.

"Oh fucking fuck, what did that pissbag do?" Sera asks. "How are they just… gone?"

"Turns out they didn't mean what I thought they did, he offered to get rid of them, so I agreed," Raen replied, trying to take comfort in the facts, and distancing herself from them, but given the topic, it just doesn't work. "And - and then he broke my heart with the most bullshit excuse ever. I don't know. With that, can we just… not? At all?"

"Of course, you don't have to say anything," Cassandra agrees, an arm still around her.

"Later, when it isn't super insensitive or whatever, remind me to tell you how much I've always hated that arrogant pompous arse."

"Noted, Sera," Raen manages to say, with a watery smile. By 'later', that might well be exactly what she wants to hear. God knows, she just wants to shout at him now, demand answers, punch him in his stupid all knowing face.

But she also just wants to curl up in her bed at Skyhold and sleep for a full day while crying, and that urge is winning.

(And she just wants his arms around her, his voice in her ear, his everything, and she can't have it, but she's scared to think about what she might do to get those things back.)

She loses track of time, but they return to Skyhold in the dead of night, and soon she is in her bed, tucked in by an attentive Dorian while Sera watches from nearby, plainly concerned but not quite sure of what to do. Bull had gone back to his people upon arrival, but not before giving her a pat on the shoulder and offering to whack Solas with his axe. Raen suspects he's not overly comfortable with a large room of emotional people, when the problem is romantic heartbreak - it's not exactly an area of expertise for him and his people, after all.

She's fairly sure she's seen him and Dorian stealing lingering looks at each other, though, but that isn't her business.

"How did you find me?" Raen asks Dorian.

"You think the Nightingale's little birds don't take notice of where we all go?" he replies. "Apparently, when she learned that Solas had left without you, she immediately asked Cassandra to investigate, just to be safe. Naturally, the Seeker is intelligent enough to not go alone."

Cole appears in the doorway to her balcony, making her wonder if he had climbed over the roof to get there. He strides inside, worry etched across his face, taking no notice of how Sera curses and shuffles further away from him.

"I can help you," he says to Raen, earnestly, and her heart aches.

As much as she would love to lose the blinding pain in her, she needs it right now, needs it as fuel for her anger.

"Soon," she tells Cole, and tries to block out the pained expression that crosses his face, from his lack of understanding. "But not yet."

"She said no, now piss off," Sera says to him, eyes narrowing.

Cole averts his eyes. "I'm sorry."

She only has to glance away before he is gone as quickly as he has arrived.

Not long after, Josephine ascends the steps, Leliana and Cassandra behind her but lingering at the top of the stairs. The diplomat looks worried, immensely so, her fingers knotted in front of her.

"Inquisitor?" Josephine asks, tentatively. "I have been… informed of what has happened, as much as I can be. I-"

She gets closer, and notices the lack of vallaslin, her eyes going wide.

"I apologise, I was forewarned, but I have become so accustomed to you being… you." Josephine flushes ever so slightly.

"Sera, Dorian, I'll see you two tomorrow?" Raen asks them.

"Of course," Dorian replies, giving her hand a squeeze. "You get a good sleep and feel better, yes?"

Raen nods, and Dorian kisses her forehead fleetingly, and it's so sweet of him that the tears start up again. God, she hates them all seeing her like this. Leliana is watching her with pity. Cassandra lingers between her and Josephine, between the staircase and the bed, while Josephine seems to be fighting the urge to sit down.

"You don't all have to be here, I'm not injured," Raen tells them. "This is ridiculous."

"A broken heart can be more debilitating than any injury," Josephine says, only to cough a moment later, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Or… so I hear."

"All the same, I'm limiting shoulders for crying on to one person."

"Right, well, I'm out then," Sera says, getting up. "If you're looking for proper sympathy, my shoulder ain't the one for you. So not keen on you crying over the pompous git when you could do so much better."

Raen and Cassandra frown at her.

"Thank you for tonight, Sera," Raen says, the slight to Solas barely stinging because it's nothing she hasn't said before.

"I've always got your back, yeah?" Sera says. "Even if I think you're an idiot."

Raen smiles. It's their conversation after the Temple of Mythal all over again. "I know. Thank you."

Sera does an awkward little wave, jumps over the banister to the stairs, and disappears out of sight.

Dorian, who had been headed in the same direction, hesitates. "Was it my shoulder you were after?"

Raen isn't actually sure, she just knows she can't stand being coddled by so many. With just one, it will hopefully just feel more like normal comfort. Like she's a normal person with normal heartbreak, and not… whatever the hell she actually is.

She almost does choose Dorian, but as she opens her mouth to answer in the affirmative, a look of dismay crosses Josephine's face before it's hidden.

It makes sense. Josephine has been a dear, dear friend since the start. Long talks on Raen's balcony or by her fire - or rather, usually listening to Josephine talk. She'll spill gossip that Raen barely half understands because she still struggles to understand or care about human politics, let alone the intricacies of The Game, but Josephine makes everything interesting, somehow. Occasionally Raen shares stories from the field, regaling the ambassador with tales of monsters. She makes a wonderful audience, gasping in all the right places, even clutching Raen's arm with worry on occasion.

"Josephine? Will you stay with me for a while?" Raen asks her.

Relief flashes through Josephine's eyes, and she nods. "Of course, Inquisitor."

Cassandra doesn't look as though she's keen on leaving either. "Are you certain-"

"Thank you, Cassandra, Leliana," Raen says, voice soft but firm as she looks to them. "We can speak tomorrow, if that's alright. I really do just want to be alone, or close to it."

"Of course," Cassandra says, and Leliana nods a moment after. "Goodnight, Inquisitor."

They head down the stairs, and Raen looks back at Josephine, who has cast her eyes to her lap.

"I… did not expect you to choose me, of all the friends you possess," Josephine admits.

"You're one of my closest friends, Josephine," Raen says to her, reaching for her hand and squeezing it, which makes her start, for some reason. "And you looked as though you… didn't want to leave."

"Oh, it's silly really, I know that you are alright, physically, but when Cassandra told me of how you were when she found you-"

"Gods, is all of Skyhold going to know about how spectacularly dumped I was by morning?" Raen says with frustration, throwing her hands up.

Josephine winces. "Gossip spreads like wildfire here, Inquisitor, but among our inner circle, I promise we will try to keep it as contained as possible."

"Raen."

"What?"

"You know my name, Josephine, and you're my friend, there's no reason for you to call me Inquisitor at a time like this. We're alone in my bedroom, for crying out loud."

Josephine blushes. "Well, yes-"

"Not alone in my bedroom like that, of course, but you know what I mean," Raen continues, snorting. "I just… I'm not the Inquisitor right now. I'm just Raen, a woman who just got her heart ripped and stamped on."

"And I am merely Josephine, your friend, and not Ambassador Montilyet," Josephine says, nodding. "Of course. Is there - I'm sorry, I'm not sure of what you need."

"Honestly?" Raen asks. "A hug would be fucking brilliant."

Josephine smiles at her, eyes sad but somehow reassured. "That I can do, Raen."

Josephine shuffles closer, and she wraps Raen into a tight, warm hug that smells of fancy perfume and fresh parchment. Raen clings to her and doesn't bother stopping the sobs that escape her now that she no longer feels like she is being watched, now that she feels as though she can grieve properly, not like in the glade where pure shock had ruled her and she'd just been screaming with outrage.

Now she sobs into Josephine's shoulder and feels awful because a part of her longs for another set of arms, another chest, a different accent in her ear murmuring words of comfort. The language of her people, not the common tongue.

"You really love him, don't you?" Josephine asks, voice hesitant and soft, and a little pained, for a reason Raen can't quite be sure of.

"Yes," Raen answers, "so much that the thought of not being with him means I can't breathe. I don't even know why I'm so in love with him exactly, I just... am. But no one looks at the world the way that he does. And no one understands the way I feel about my people the way he does. I didn't even have to… to explain. He just understood, right away."

"I - that explains a fair bit, I suppose," Josephine says. "As far as I understand it, the heart is a strange, senseless thing sometimes. And what you have just described is hardly senseless besides."

"I hope you're right," Raen says. "I'll talk to him tomorrow, if he's back by then. I need to. I need to try and reason with him. He's so assured of himself that I doubt it'll work, but if there's even a chance-"

"You have to try," Josephine finishes, pulling away and nodding. "Of course you have to try. You love him. And he loves you, that much is obvious to us all."

"Sorry, I know we haven't been entirely subtle," Raen mumbles, embarrassed.

"Many people lack subtlety here, my dear, it is nothing, truly. It was nice to see you happy, with how much pressure is on you otherwise."

"Right. Josephine?"

"Yes?"

"Can I come by for another hug tomorrow, if things don't… go well, with him?"

Josephine smiles sadly and pushes some of Raen's auburn hair behind her ear. "Of course. Whatever you need."

Raen hugs her again. "I'm lucky to have a friend like you, Josephine."

"You have more than just me, my lady."

"I know. But no one tells stories quite like you do. Will you… tell me one, until I fall asleep?" Raen feels herself flushing a bit as she makes the request. It feels wrong, a bit too intimate to ask of her ambassador - but Josephine is just Josephine right now, and she is her friend.

Josephine's eyes are soft and warm. "Of course. Why don't you get comfortable? I have an excellent one about a bard who went to Nevarra…"

Against all odds, Raen is able to get to sleep despite the horrible ache in her chest, thanks to the sound of Josephine's voice.

The birds and sunlight wake her just after dawn, as they always do. But where normally she would rise with a determination to get through her many tasks and responsibilities for the day, or lie in bed a little longer out of exhaustion, today is different.

Today she nearly jumps out of bed, and dresses in a flurry only to catch herself and remember that she can't be walking around looking like a complete mess. She can't be bested by something this - this absurd.

She's become the kind of hopelessly enamoured fool she used to scoff at. But she has one thing on her side, and that is her sheer force of will and the fury in her so powerful that it's actually making the tiniest sparks of lightning jump around her fingertips when she forgets to breathe for too long.

Looking in the mirror brings her to a stop, though.

She's never seen her face without the vallaslin, not since she was a teenager and had yet to receive it.

Her hand reaches out to touch the now bare skin of her forehead and chin, almost expecting to feel some kind of scar, or something else that would be any indication of something having been there before. There is nothing.

She doesn't know whether to be angry with Solas for telling her the truth and taking such an integral part of her away even though she'd asked him to, or endlessly thankful that he had revealed the truth to her and helped her lose what would have only been a tribute to her people's failure.

There's room in her to be angry at them all, apparently, as well as herself.

Her whole body is shaking slightly as she thinks about it all, and she takes more deep breaths to try and calm herself.

It doesn't really work, and she ends up striding through Skyhold with a stony expression on her face until she reaches the base level of the tower that serves as Solas' personal space and study.

To her relief, he is there, bent over his desk and examining something on a piece of paper.

"You don't get out of this that easily!" she tells him as she storms towards him. Every emotion from last night swarms back, the betrayal of it all, how livid she had been, as well as the overwhelming need for him to just take it all back and then take her into his arms so they could put it behind them and go back to how things had been -

He is calm. Infuriatingly calm in that smug, all knowing way of his that is patronising if only because it makes her feel like she's juvenile for ever losing her cool, even if she knows she has the right to feel and express whatever emotions she likes, especially during private conversations.

"I understand your anger," he says, and she can only snort because for once she is absolutely sure he is wrong about something. "I am furious with myself as well. But for now, we must focus on what matters. Harden your heart to a cutting edge, and put that pain to good use against Corypheus."

"It would help me if you could explain why," she says.

"The answers would only led to more questions, an emotional entanglement that would benefit neither of us," he says. "The blame is mine, not yours. It was irresponsible and selfish of me. Let that be enough."

I distracted you from your duty.

The worst part is, that if this whole mess has proved anything, it's that he's right. She should be focused on the Inquisition right now, but here she is, demanding to be taken back and shouting to make it seem less pathetic. Even if she weren't here because of what he had done, how many times had she set aside a task in favour of spending time with him? Or being seduced by him, or seducing him?

Perhaps he is right, and perhaps she doesn't care.

She needs to try and consider it, though, to think like the Inquisitor and not put her personal desires above everything else. Maybe she can let this rest, for now, as he wants.

"Will you talk to me when we have finished with Corypheus?" she asks. After all, when Corypheus is dead, his reasoning, however valid it may be, will no longer stand.

If it's a matter of waiting, she can wait. She'll wait for him. Maybe it will be good for her to clear her head a little.

Solas eyes her for a moment, his expression as difficult to read as it often is.

"If we are both still alive afterwards, then I promise you, everything will be made clear," he says.

She swallows, and nods. She can work with that.

He offers his help with anything she needs leading up to their battle with Corypheus, and she promises to let him know if she needs his expertise. It's a little awkward, making more professional conversation, but not as much as she might have expected.

She gives him a tentative smile when she leaves, and he gives her one in return, looking faintly relieved.

She feels a bit lightheaded, perhaps from how rapidly her anger has faded into a strange acceptance and realisation that she perhaps hasn't been acting as she should have. Is it so surprising that Solas had been right? He's always right, always so quick to see what others don't. It's part of what had drawn her to him so quickly.

The door into the main hall opens before she can touch it, and nearly takes out her nose. Opening it and trying to come through is Cassandra, who lets out a noise of surprise.

"You nearly just got revenge for last night, with that," Raen exclaims, with a tiny laugh.

Cassandra blinks at her. "Oh, Inquisitor, I apologise-"

"No apologies needed when I'm the one that gave you a bloody nose. I hope it hasn't troubled you too much," Raen says, frowning.

Cassandra shakes her head, a laugh of her own escaping. "That? That was nothing. You're not a warrior of physicality, Inquisitor, and it does show in your right hook."

Raen feels herself flushing. "Right. Where were you headed, anyway?"

Cassandra looks at the ground. "I - after last night, and how you were, I-"

"Were you-" Raen looks at her with faint disbelief. "Were you actually about to confront Solas on my behalf?"

"You make it sound more… diplomatic than I was perhaps intending," Cassandra admits, her fist clenching and releasing at her side.

"Well, it won't be necessary," Raen tells her. "I've spoken with him. We're… we're simply paused, until after Corypheus is dealt with. I think. And I can live with that. Better for me to focus on my duties, after all."

Cassandra's eyebrows lift. "I… I see. That sounds… sensible."

"I hope so."

"I am still tempted to have words with him, after what state he left you in-"

"Don't," Raen says, all at once feeling awfully embarrassed about how she had been last night and just how many people had witnessed it. "I'd rather just… forget about last night. I don't want to be… avenged, or whatever it is you have in mind."

Cassandra's eyes are conflicted, still faintly burning with that righteousness of hers, indignance on Raen's behalf.

"Very well," she says eventually, jaw clenched. "If you are sure."

Raen smiles at her and puts a hand on her arm. "You're sweet to care so much, though."

"I am not… sweet," Cassandra says uncomfortably, saying the word like it tastes bad on her tongue and crossing her arms over her chest.

Fondness rises in Raen's chest, as it so often does when talking to the Seeker. There's something so delightful about her, how she doesn't realise her own charm, as unique and unconventional as it is.

"That's debatable," Raen says. "But truly. Your loyalty means a lot to me. It's still strange to think I could inspire such fierce defence in someone."

Cassandra frowns, the faintest bit of colour in her cheeks. "You are the Inquisitor. And… a rather dear friend, when I do not have many."

"I know."

They fall into a strange silence that becomes a bit awkward as neither of them know what to say next, just hovering in the doorway.

"Well, I'll be… getting back to my work, then," Cassandra says, stepping back the way she had come, and Raen follows her since it is the way to Josephine's office, which will be Raen's next stop.

"I'll see you later, then," Raen says to her.

Cassandra nods. "Until then, Inquisitor."

Josephine, when Raen arrives in her office, is relieved to see Raen in a milder state and to hear that things are tentatively alright with Solas. Raen manages to get a hug out of her anyway and finds herself properly soothed by the feeling of Josephine's arms around her. She's lucky to have such a good friend.

It's odd to think of Corypheus as a simpler matter to be dealing with, but Raen finds herself strangely relieved to get back to talking about him and his imminent destruction, even if Josephine's gaze lingers on her more than usual, no doubt out of worry even if she's good at keeping her face difficult to read.

It will all be okay, in the end. Raen is starting to believe that. She has to.

Thanks for reading, let me know what you thought!