Lathbora Viran

The path to a place of lost love

He's not sure when exactly he fell in love with the Inquisitor. She came into his life a curiosity, she was but a mortal Fadeless woman, yet was capable of surviving his mark, even utilising it. That was all she was to him in the beginning, an anomaly, a question in need of an answer. And he's incapable of pinpointing the moment that all started to change.

She slowly started to become important to him, whether or not she could defeat Corypheus, if she would live long enough to see him fall, they weren't things he should've bothered himself with, and yet he did. All this - this concern he felt, it was dangerous. Had she been like the rest of her people, stubborn and unyielding, arrogant and spiteful, he wouldn't have cared. It would've given him every reason to continue his plan and raze this world he created until nothing but dust remained. And that dust would scatter to the wind, and Elvhenan would rise once more.

But no, she was more than he ever could have expected and that just made what he had to do so much worse.

It perhaps all began when she opted for the mountain pass at Haven to save the lost patrol. She looked her captors in the eye and told them how their approach would be handled. Holding herself high with confidence, she made sure they knew that the lives of their men was more important than the speed in which they would get to the temple. That was when she started to earn his respect at the very least, but it would be quite a reach to assume he'd fall for her from that simple action alone. No, that was not love, not yet.

In the following weeks he started to build somewhat of a rapport with the Inquisitor, back when she was simply the Herald. She was curious of the mark on her hand and she approached him for guidance. Every now and then he'd soothe the ailments from his mistake, and she would often wonder of its origin. But questions of the anchor quickly segued into inquiries into his past, what he studied, where he'd been, and even his adventures into the Fade.

He assumed that she'd respond to his tales with her own Dalish rhetoric, as so many others had done before, and never had he been so wrong.

Never in all his ramblings did she interrupt, never did she deny his claims. She believed him, agreed with him, supported his opinions on matters of the Fade, spirits, and even her own culture. It was so refreshing, talking to someone of this world without feeling like he was banging his head against a wall. All too easy was it for him to say too much, to let something slip that perhaps he didn't mean to. It was lucky that he was quick on his feet, and even quicker with his words.

"I've seen it deep in the Fade."

There were times when she didn't quite believe his half-truths, he could see it in her eyes, but she never once brought it up. That made her - even more interesting than before. Did she have an agenda? Secrets of her own? What game did she play behind her kind mask?

Still, that is not when the love he felt for her began to bloom in his breast. It was a short time after, after aligning themselves alongside the mages, perhaps before their escape from Haven. He just remembers what she said, and the feeling it stirred deep in his heart.

"If it'll save the villagers, he can have me."

No! You can't!

His reaction surprised himself, it was animalistic and guttural, primal in every sense of the word. He couldn't have controlled it if he tried. The thought of her being taken, it pained him. She was a friend, respected, adored. Her beautiful pale locks, reddened with blood, obscuring her eyes and hiding the truth in them. She was frightened, he knew. And he'd ensure that she'd see another day. Though she would eventually die for his hasty mistake, he wouldn't let her die protecting him.

And still, she almost did. She stayed, faced down the monster that was meant to perish when he unlocked the Orb of Fen'Harel, and was nearly lost to the cold of the Frostback Basin once she outmanoeuvred him. He cursed himself as he was practically dragged back to the Chantry. They all thought her dead after she was hit by a fiery blast, he should've stayed behind to make sure. But he didn't.

Perhaps that was the moment. Because when he saw her being carried into their makeshift camp by the Commander, he rushed to her side without forming the thought to do so. She was shaking, clearly on the brink of hypothermia, and he wouldn't let anyone save for himself take over her care. His actions were far more caring and affectionate than he wanted, gingerly brushing the pads of his fingers across her brow as he warmed her with his magic. Had the situation been less dire, he would've chastised himself.

"S-Solas?" She whispers.

"I'm here, lethallan."

"It... It hurts...!" She gasps suddenly, clenching her fist.

Gently he caresses her cheek, his eyes are full of a pained understanding. He reaches down to her marked hand, enclosing it in his grasp, a green light dancing around them as he tries to ease her pain and cast her into a soothing slumber. Eventually her pulse slows and her eyes flutter closed. With her finally at rest, he whispers,

"I know, and you will never know how sorry I am."

It was so hard. To look upon her knowing what he'd done to her. Her sincere green eyes nearly undid his resolve once or twice. But he steeled himself each time and pressed on. This though, this was different, and he owed her so much so he decided to give his only possession of note to the Inquisition. Skyhold. A castle he once called home in the times of Arlathan. She would serve it well, at least better than he ever could in his current state.

Yet this was not enough for her. He was set on doing something more, but something small, so he took her into the Fade with him. It was much easier than he predicted with the help of his magic bored into her hand. There he showed her Haven in its former glory, before Corypheus turned it to ash. He took her down into the Chantry where she was once held, to her cabin where she first woke, and to the grove where she used to go to escape either Cassandra or Josephine and enjoy the cold mountain air.

She looked even more beautiful in the Fade, light practically danced around her without her knowledge, and he let something slip that he really shouldn't have. But for the life of him he can't bring himself to regret it. Not when it brought about such a wonderful result.

It was shy and unexpected, but when she pressed her lips against, every protest he usually conjured held no weight. He took her by the hips and kissed her harder than he perhaps intended. She was - everything he could've dreamed of. Soft and warm, her lips were generous and sweet, and he couldn't help but kiss her again as they pulled apart.

When the dream suddenly dissipated, he fully expected her to come storming into the rotunda ready to lash out at him. She would certainly be unsettled by what he'd done, he had pulled her into the Fade, something only Dreamers were capable of without lyrium. He was ready to apologise to her when the door to the Great Hall opened and he saw her standing there, her brow furrowed with determination.

"You little harellan...!" She starts as she approaches him.

As he opened his mouth to ask her forgiveness, she fisted at the collar of his shirt and pulled him down for a fierce kiss. He was surprised, but he gladly returned the kiss and settled his hands on her waist. The taste of her was different, this was real. She tasted like sunrise on a quiet morning, spice on a summer wind, there was something intoxicating about her. He had to pull away before he was lost in her.

But, in truth, he was already lost beyond compare.

That was when he started to question his heart, wondered if perhaps their relationship was growing too close. Constantly he considered asking her down from her quarters to end their infatuation with each other before either of them got hurt. Yet whenever he saw her crossing the grounds, he couldn't bring himself to do it. She was beautiful, as beautiful as the Fade, and it warmed his heart whenever she cast a smile his way.

And when he asked her assistance in the Exalted Plains, when she saved his friend from servitude and allowed them to pass from this world in peace, he knew that he loved her more than anything. She descended the steps to meet him as he trudged across the bridge. Her gaze was understanding, and it humbled him. Quietly she slipped into his arms, wrapping herself around his middle just as he tilted up her chin for a kiss.

It was so natural, so innocent and pure, and he knew that he would not be able to let her go.

Weeks passed and his love for her only grew. Watching her dance amongst the nobles of Orlais only increased his admiration for her. She was elegant and deadly, blades hidden underneath the billowing gown she wore, her hair tied up in an intricate knot curtesy of Leliana, and she reminded him of the elves of Arlathan. She did not appear Dalish, nor did she appear the subjugated city elf, she appeared to be made of pure magic.

He knew that she was his one true love, so when she drank from the Well of Sorrows and enslaved herself to Mythal, he felt his heart break. For centuries he fought for the freedom she so carelessly relinquished, and when she stood in front of him he shouted at her in grief. She was gone. Mythal, she was kind, but she would call upon the Inquisitor to do her bidding if she required it. And she most certainly would.

But, worst of all, gaining the knowledge of the Well meant that she would eventually learn the truth of him. The memories of the elvhen would give away his true identity, she would learn that she loved the man that her keeper told her about, the ultimate betrayer, the traitor Fen'Harel, the Dread Wolf. She would learn all of this, so he made up his mind to tell her first.

He took her to a grove in Crestwood, two hart statues stood proud as they walked towards a quiet spring. They moved hand in hand, fingers laced, and he quickly brought up the Fade, the Veil, in order to calm his racing heart. Surely she would accept him, surely she would still love him, but it was still a gamble. And he thought he was ready to risk it.

Of course, he couldn't do it. He quickly spat out the truth of the vallislin and offered to remove it from her beautiful face. After a stray tear was shed, she compiled and the slave markings of Ghilan'nain were removed with a chilling magic. As she looked up at him, her face even more remarkable than before, he knew he had gone too far.

I must end this, before it's too late.

In truth, it had been too late for months, but he knew he had to do this now. He had to break her heart and hope that that was enough to drive her from him. She cried, as he had expected, she sat down at the waters edge and wept. Her shoulders shook and her sobs broke his heart, but this had to be done.

Knowing that his presence would only hurt her more, he left her there. She did not return to Skyhold for several weeks, and when she did, everyone had already figured out what happened. He overheard Iron Bull asking her if the death of her former lover would make her feel better. She laughed, assured him there was no need, and continued on.

He didn't see much of her in the time leading up to the final assault against Corypheus. She didn't ask him to accompany her out in her adventures, she took another in his place as she trekked into the Deep Roads, and the seat she usually took on his settee had grown cold. Surely he had accomplished what he aimed for, but it hurt him just as much as it did her.

There wasn't a minute in his life after Corypheus's defeat that he didn't think about her. Leaving her at the battle took all of his strength, but he had to. He always did what he had to, in the end. He still looked upon her in his dreams, watched her dispatch a rogue Avvar clan, slay a dragon that caused the last Inquisitor to sacrifice himself, he watched her for months. Years.

When he discovered a Qunari plot threatening to destroy Thedas, he broke his unspoken vow to stay away from her. He assigned his spies to intercede and provoke her into saving the world, yet again. Painfully, he watched her fumbling attempts to fend off Qunari soldiers as the mark he'd cursed her with finally began to consume her entirely. She didn't have much time left, maybe only days.

And he knew he had to save her.

It was hard to even hear her again, let alone gaze upon her. She stood behind him, her melodious voice had hardened over the years. Her resolve was strong, and when he turned to explain himself, he noticed the innocent spark in her eyes had been extinguished. This woman - this woman he loved with all his heart had seen the worst of the world, and it showed. That hurt him more than he had expected.

When he started to explain himself, she immediately regaled him with every detail of himself he had kept hidden. She knew who he was, she knew what he had done for the People, his betrayal and his act of heroism. Of course she would find out his deepest secrets without even trying, that's just who the Inquisitor was.

He still told her of the truth of her Pantheon, of the Evanuris, and she stood beside him patiently. Of his plans to throw this world back to the Fade and let it burn in the resulting chaos, he told her everything. Any semblance of the love they once shared was gone from her, she simply nodded along with his tale as they looked out over the Vir Dirthara. She had changed, and it took every ounce of strength he had not to reach out to her.

If only he was stronger.

As she crumbled to her knees in agonising pain, he knelt beside her. He could grant her relief of this burden he placed on her, so he leaned in close, kissing her gently while he held her hand in his grasp. For a split second, he felt her resolve melt and the warmth he once knew overwhelmed him. Then he cast his spell over her afflicted arm and gradually it was pulled into the Fade.

"I will save you vhenan, even if that means I have to save you from yourself. Vir lath vir suledin."

Her words shocked him, he had expected her to pull her bow from her back to lodge an arrow between his eyes. Yet, there she sat, the pain slowly ebbing from her, her eyes shining up at him as they once did, and she surprised him yet again. She quickly leaned in for another kiss, using her Anchorless hand to support his face as they indulged in each for the last time.

Slowly, he stood, turning away from her and heading for the Eluvian behind them.

"I wish it could, vhenan."

And that was the last he saw of her. She continued on as the figurehead of the disbanded Inquisition, Divine Victoria and Cassandra her trusted advisors to this day. Their remaining spies still comb the countryside for trickster God, and they will not find him. Not unless he allows it.

Even though they continue their search and he's no closer to being found, he still watches over his one true vhenan as she sleeps. He slinks through the Fade to her, basking in her warmth, even if at a distance. But she senses him and he knows it. She walks in her dreams with one ear always trained to the brush alongside her. For a lone wolf lingers there, his eyes glowing bright.

And his heart aches for the touch of a woman he'll never feel again. He yearns for Lanna Lavellan with each breath he takes, but he must deny himself until the end of time. For he cannot pinpoint the moment he fell in love with the Inquisitor, but he knows even love will not deter him from his purpose. He will forever walk alone for that is the only punishment he can afford himself.