After they parted, Solas couldn't free his mind completely from the heart-twisting image of Ellana on her knees before him. He hated what he had brought upon her, the Anchor, the suffering. He really shouldn't have involved himself in that Qunari attack.
He had underestimated the effect she still had on him. Since that talk he kept returning to her in his dreams, guided by strange desire to see her, even if from the distance. Sometimes he visited her as a wolf, and sometimes as a man, and Inquisitor never failed to recognize him.
This night, however, was even more disturbing than others. Solas found her in the middle of a dark forest, sitting on a fallen tree trunk near a small campfire. He came up closer than he ever dared before. The memories were gathering in his head, confusing him and waking old pains. Solas closed his eyes for a moment. The cool night air and the sound of distant music reminded him Halamshiral. The feeling of Ellana in his arms was almost too real; the Fade was there to bend to his will. Their differences clashed there for the first time, resulting in a powerful break of their union. But while they were dancing it was still in the future. Solas gave in to his memory, let himself revive that dance that was imprinted in his mind for an eternity. As he let the Fade venture deeper and deeper into his soul Solas realized it was another woman that he held in his arms. Tall and graceful, strong and dangerous, slender and powerful, with silvery eyes and heavenly smile. They circled, his hand around her waist, the only time he had really touched her...
He forced himself back to reality, if there was one in the Fade. Those memories from before the rebellion... it wouldn't do. It was wrong to come there, it was wrong to visit her, it was...
...what was that?

"Mythal, my love, turn your bright eyes to me!
My guiding star, the only one I see.
My fate is yours, as is my life, my queen,
Grant me your favor, faithful as I've been."

Solas opened his eyes. That was the music, a song in elvhen, sang by the Inquisitor herself. He had come nearer to her, he realized.
"How do you know that song?" he asked without second thought.
She turned her head, seeing him sitting down next to her. It was a dream and she wasn't frightened, only surprised to hear him at last.
"My mother sang it to me. It was a tradition that all women in my mother's family pledged themselves to Mythal. The song is a praise to her." Ellana answered calmly, returning her gaze to the fire.
Solas chuckled, amused by the Dalish interpretation. Explaining things to her, it was easy to imagine they were still back there, in the Inquisition field camp.
"This song was written in Arlathan times. Only then it was not praising Mythal as one of Evanuris, but rather as a beautiful woman." He sighed deeply. "I was among those who sang it."
Why, oh why were those memories coming over him, threatening to tear him into pieces?
A pair of curious eyes glittered in the dark, aimed at him.
"What? Solas, you loved Mythal?" Ellana wondered enthusiastically.
"I still do." Came a simple reply.
"Then we still have something in common." Ellana paused, caught by her thoughts. "Tell me about her. You know I love her with my whole being." She pleaded.
Solas could not resist the bittersweet memories that have been torturing him for thousands of years. He took a deep breath and spoke in a quiet voice, his eyes locked with hers:
"I was not lying when I said you were Mythal of the Inquisition. And I won't lie that your likeness was one the reasons I grew fond of you. Mythal was the pure power, but not an elemental one. She was harmony. Her gaze could bring down arguments; calm the stormy skies and seas, and tame wild beasts."
"Such as wolves?"
"Yes," he smiled, "such as wolves." He fell silent, as the echo of that ethereal harmony gave him a moment of inner peace he lacked so much lately.
"What did she look like?" Ellana urged him again.
Solas took his time remembering.
"Mythal... she was tall, with long dark tresses, pale skin and silvery eyes. Those eyes... they resembled the moonlight. The darkest souls were lit by her gaze, the darkest grievance soothed. She was not a goddess, but a powerful mage, and she cast spells with mere looks. Was it a spell or not, I'll never know, but since I first crossed my eyes with her I never stopped loving that woman. All the pride, all the glory of the People was in her... so much I've lost."
The silence took over again. The crackling of the fire was the only sound left.
Finally, Ellana spoke anew, and Solas was not prepared to hear the pain and bitterness in her tone.
"Well, I guess I never had the chance to compete."
Solas examined her face attentively. He could clearly see the jealousy, her stubbornness not to show it, her hope he would still see it through her mask. She was so open before him, the power of her trust never ending to surprise him.
"Do not say that." He whispered hotly, touched by her nearness. "Mythal was a dream, an ideal for me as much as for you. I never really knew her. You, on the other hand..." Solas gave in completely to his feelings for her, both old and present. He placed his hands on the sides of her face. "You've trusted me, you've opened me your soul. What we had was real." He shook his head in sorrow. "I've never meant for all this to happen, but I was helpless before your kindness. You are not Mythal, but you could be, a kinder one, another Mythal in another world." Solas repeated his words from before, and the memories of the day he erased her vallaslin brought them both down. He wiped her tears with his thumbs, not caring for his own tears running freely, whispering some words in elvhen neither of them could remember later. Somehow Solas felt her lips on his own, not sure who started the kiss, but as disoriented as he was, he went for it with a fervor long forgotten.
It was a bliss, no other word coming nearer to describe his state. Solas pulled her closer, kissing her cheeks, her hair, her closed eyelids, and her lips, again and again... until she pushed him away, horror evident in her widely open eyes. She looked different, but he couldn't quite describe it. Was it a trick of Fade? No, he would've known.
A strange emptiness began to fill him, since they parted. Solas tried to keep down the panic rising inside him, as the fearful possibilities ran over his mind, still clouded by passion.
"What have you done?" He asked weakly, crawling back, using his arms as a support, unsure what came next.
Ellana looked down at him, confused and frightened by his reaction. "Banal melava tu." She replied in perfect elvhen language, without her usual Dalish accent, but her voice was weak and shaking. She looked astonished to hear her own voice.
Solas straightened himself, unable to believe what he had just heard. She tricked him. She lured him in. She toyed with his feelings, his memories.
"Mythal." He stated in an accusing tone. Another hole in his perfect plans.
Ellana closed her eyes, her ears with her hands, trying to grasp the changes rushing through her. She arched and hunched back, silent cries coming out of her mouth.
At last she calmed. When she finally looked at him, her eyes were steel.
"That was my name, yes."
"What have you done?" Solas repeated in elvhen. "Why?"
"I wanted to leave you. You kept me bound and silent in the darkest corner of your soul, unaware of your plans. But I am not deaf. I heard everything that you wish to do, and I'm going to stop you."
This was madness. They were not supposed to be rivals.
"When you behead a man, you can't put the head back. The best result would be a walking corpse, and for that you'll need the foul magic." Mythal stated disapprovingly. "Your Veil was the headsman's axe."
"Your metaphor is ill-fit. The world is dead, but my People are not." Solas tried to explain. Mythal could be a powerful ally that he needed desperately.
"You have no people. You refused to create your vallaslin, when everyone did." Mythal interrupted him coldly. "I have many people, though, both elvhen and elves. And I will protect them. Even from you."
"The elves that pray to you as if you were goddess!" Solas protested. He could still convince her. She was talking nonsense.
"Then I'll be their goddess. Being a god is an ultimate service, the one you'd never understand." She replied calmly.
"You will serve those savages until they murder you once more for being a feeble impostor who can't even raise the dead or stop the famines." Solas replied sarcastically, crossing his arms on his chest. She was too stubborn to reason. But he still had to. "Let me show you this world, and you will see it is not worth saving."
Mythal laughed and it sounded almost cruel to his ears. "You do not need to show me this world. I was born and raised among the Dalish, and I've seen much more than you have."
Solas stared at her. It seemed Mythal had claimed Ellana's memories as well as her body. Solas suddenly realized their kiss was the last thing of Ellana he would ever have. She was gone, yet she stood before him, a familiar stranger.
Was it supposed to be that painful? He had wondered many times, how it would feel when she'd died. But he could never imagine that cold, that cold when the fire died out.
"You took her from me." Solas said, but he could not believe the words. "Why her? She's mortal and she's dying." He finished woefully.
"Flemeth was mortal once." Mythal remarked. "And I have nothing to explain to you."
His shock was strong, but the grief began to take over. "I loved her, Mythal, I loved her like a mortal man, when every moment is a treasure, when every breath is a gift..." Solas continued covering his face with hands, and his speech became unintelligible.
He did not see that his words woke something different in her. She blinked in amazement, as if someone called her back. Solas felt smaller hands prying his ones away, gently, but firmly.
"But I'm not gone, Solas." Ellana assured him softly, as she put his hands on his lap, parting from him shortly after. She spoke human language then. "I remember everything we had, and have distant memories of Arlathan, as if I've seen it in a dream."
She smiled as she sat down again. "Mythal was killed. There's not much left of her. She couldn't be the whole me."
"I tried to save you from this fate, when you wanted to drink from the well." Solas lamented. "Why did you let her do it?"
Ellana sighed. "The Anchor... it took more than my arm. I haven't long felt that whole as I do now."
"I'm sorry." He replied, though it felt useless. She only smiled again.
Such a change in her behavior. It was suspicious. Could he really believe her? He had to be sure. Mythal, even the part of her, was so much stronger than him.
"Do you indeed remember everything? What did you call me after we've been together in the bathhouse?" Solas asked her, keeping a watchful expression on his face.
He could swear he saw a color rising in her cheeks. She did remember that day at least.
"I called you Fen'Harel." Ellana answered quietly.
Solas frowned. "No, it was 'during', not after. Do you not remember?"
Ellana looked worried. "I don't, I don't, but I'm still me, please, believe me!" She muttered nervously.
Solas took her hand and said reassuringly: "Now I do believe you. If you were Mythal, your memories would be like an open book to her. You called me an egg-head, by the way." Solas added with a chuckle.
They shared a comfortable silence for several seconds. Ellana, or Mythal, looked thoughtful. She glanced at him kindly, but her question was a challenging one:
"Why did you treat me, I mean, Mythal, like that? Why did you oppress me?" She demanded the answer.
Solas pursed his lips, then sighed. "I feared you. And I was not wrong as I see. My path has become even harder now."
Solas felt it would be fair if he asked too. "How did you trick me into kissing you? All those memories from before, they kept bringing me over the edge, till I could hardly be held accountable for my actions."
Ellana shrugged her shoulders. "You can't blame me. Those are your memories. You put all your strength into controlling Mythal, and those memories were set free. You should not treat yourself like that. Those memories, emotions are a part of you, and not the worst one."
It was indeed something Mythal would say, but it was a kind advice given by a kind heart. It seemed that the Evanuris and the Dalish elf had fewer inner conflicts than he with himself.
"It surprises me you are so calm. Are you two in full accordance now?" Solas wondered.
"We are one. I'm whole." Ellana tried to explain, but the words wouldn't obey her.
He nodded. "You do look peaceful. For all it's worth it eases my burden."
"Do I look different?" She inquired.
Solas created a little light in his hand to see her better, as it still was dark in the Fade.
"You do. Your eyes glitter with silver, and you look like one of the People." The admiration was evident in his tone. Ellana wanted to ask something, but he pleaded her to remain silent with a gesture of his hand. "Let me finish, vhenan. Mythal was the moonlight that lit my path in the night, serene and so high above me. Ellana was a daylight, bright and cheerful, that cast the night away, giving me warmth and care. But you, ma vhenan, the one who has not been named, you are the light itself." He paused drinking in her fair features – silver eyes, golden hair and ivory skin. The essence of light.
"You're the moon, the sun, the guiding star, the traveler's fire, the pilgrim's candle. You are for all, but I still dare to dream of claiming you my own." Solas confessed, his voice full of care and hope. He watched her bright eyes widen in wonder, as she listened to him. He still dared many things, and one of them was to kiss her again, or maybe for the first time.
But he was stopped by her palm against his lips.
"I'm sorry, Solas," she explained sadly, "but I'm tired of these Fade tricks of yours. If you really want me, you will have to come to me in person."
She stood up and made a few steps away. Solas felt himself pinned to the place, his disappointment and frustration draining all his strength.
She turned back to him and added in a quiet elvhen. "Dithara-vhenan'lin. Lothlenan'melava la souveri'sahlin las mahvir'enasal." And then she disappeared in the darkness.

AN: And thus, Lavellan is revenged :-)
Here are the translations of elvhen:
Banal melava tu - [I] did nothing.
Dithara-vhenan'lin. Lothlenan'melava la souveri'sahlin las mahvir'enasal. – May you learn, my love. Forgotten past and weary present grant joyous tomorrow.