(A/N): Still obsessed.
Disclaimer: Disclaimed.
All New, Faded for Her
Evelyn paused in the doorway of the rotunda, the words she'd been preparing dying in her throat as her gaze fell on Solas. The elven apostate was standing before one of his frescoes, arms hanging at his sides as he stared at the painted silhouette of a wolf, and something in the set of his shoulders clawed at her heart. She hesitated, fingers tightening around the book she held. Perhaps this was too soon.
"Can I help you, Inquisitor?" Solas inquired, turning his head slightly to catch her in the periphery of his vision.
"No, Solas – I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude," she said, taking a step backward.
"You can hardly intrude in your own fortress," he replied, halting her retreat as he turned to face her. "And, to be honest, I would welcome a distraction. How may I be of use?"
Evelyn hesitated another second before she stepped fully into the room. "I owe you an apology."
Solas' forehead wrinkled in a puzzled frown. "For what?"
Her gaze dipped to the book. "For what happened to your friend."
"You did everything you could," Solas demurred, though pain and no small amount of grief slid across his eyes like a shadow.
She shook her head. "No, I..." She had to pause to swallow a sudden lump in her throat. "I was wrong. You tried to tell me, remember? Back in Haven?"
He regarded her quizzically, but she only gazed silently back, waiting until the slight widening of his eyes indicated he recalled their discussion – argument, really – on the true nature of Fade spirits. Emotions too tangled for her to decipher flashed across his face before he ducked his head. "I see. Still, you are hardly responsible for the ignorance of others –"
"But that's just it," she interjected, covering the distance between them in two short strides. "This book," she said, holding it out to him, "I took it from the mages who performed the binding ritual." He took the thick volume from her, expression hardening as he averted his eyes. She suspected he still resented the opportunity to take retribution for the death of the spirit, but now wasn't the time to address that particular subject. "I recognize it," she said softly, twisting her fingers fretfully over one another as his gaze snapped back to her face. "There was a copy in the library at the Circle in Ostwick. The senior enchanters often taught from it."
Time seemed to stretch and thin as it had around the rifts at Redcliffe as they regarded one another, anger sparking briefly in the elf's eyes before it disappeared behind a wall of growing coldness. "I confess, I fail to see whatever point you're trying to make, Inquisitor," Solas said at last, voice stiff.
"Teach me," Evelyn said evenly.
Judging by his expression, the hedge mage hadn't been expecting that response. "Teach you?"
"Yes," Evelyn said, reaching out and resting her fingers on the book he still held clenched in one hand. "Your friend died because those mages believed the information in this book – what else is in here that could do that sort of harm? How many more spirits might be corrupted by misinformation and ignorance? There are enough demons being drawn through the rifts already." She took a deep breath. "I knew how to break that summoning circle, but I only did it because I believed you when you told me it would allow the demon to revert to its true form. After seeing that..." She pressed her lips together as she remembered the anguish in his voice when he'd spoken to the spirit. "I'd trust your word over anything in that book. Teach me."
"And you would – what? Overturn centuries of prejudice and falsities on your own?" Solas' expression was deeply skeptical.
She frowned. "Maybe not, but even a single stone can cast large ripples in a pond."
He dropped his gaze back to the book, considering, and she held her silence, waiting for him to speak. "You realize they'll call you a madwoman," he said at length.
A faint smile tugged at her lips. "As they did when I was declared the Herald of Andraste."
"They'll say your mind has been poisoned by an apostate, not unlike the one who blew up the Kirkwall Chantry," he continued, raising his head to meet her eyes again.
"If you believe the rumors, my mind has already been poisoned by a Tevinter, a demon, and a Qunari. What's one more added to that list?" she said, waving her free hand dismissively. Her expression sobered as she held his gaze. "I couldn't save your friend, but I can do my best to try to ensure it never happens again." She hesitated before moving her fingers from the book to rest lightly atop his wrist. "Please, Solas."
Solas gazed at her fingers on his skin for what felt like a small eternity. "You continue to surprise me, Inquisitor," he finally said, glancing at the book's cover before he raised his eyes to hers. "What you ask is no small thing – it will be as much about unlearning everything you've ever been taught regarding spirits and the Fade, but...if you truly wish to learn, I will try."
Evelyn fought down the brief but intense urge to hug the other mage, settling instead for pouring as much gratitude as she could into her smile. "Thank you." Solas nodded and she stepped back, letting her hand fall back to her side. "Thank you," she repeated. "I'll let you get back to...whatever you need to do, but I appreciate this, Solas."
"As do I," he said. He held the book out to her, but she shook her head.
"Destroy it."
Surprise flickered across his face, but when she only gazed steadily back at him he barely hesitated before the volume was suddenly engulfed in flames, blackening the embossed cover and licking hungrily at the pages. Solas dropped it to the stone floor, and together they watched as the text was consumed, finally crumbling to ash once the fire had burnt itself out.
Evelyn released a soft sigh as the last ember winked out of existence, standing with her head bowed for another second before she turned away.
"Inquisitor."
She paused, glancing over her shoulder at Solas. He was still staring at the blackened smudge on the floor, expression unreadable. "Thank you."
She nodded and left the room, trailing the scent of ashes.