Disclaimer: You might find it shocking but I don't actually own the characters, nor did I create the locations. I'm just a puppet master happily manipulating them to do my every whim.

This story takes place after the end of the game. For those of you who have yet to beat it, this story is chock-full of spoilers. You have here-by been warned.

A/N: A few things to note…

1. I am nowhere near a regular updater. Some days brilliance will strike and I will whip out a chapter, other days I will spend hours staring at my comp screen and only type the world "and."

2. Trolls belong under a bridge, not in reviews.

3. Constructive criticism is more than welcome. So feel free to let me know if you find any errors. Also feel free to throw out ideas, or to guess where I'm going with my story. I love reviews… they make this writer happy.

4. I'm going to keep my Lavellan impersonal, that way she can be any of your Lavellans… unless of course you made her bald… might have an issue then lol. Also, I lack name creativity so her name was Ellana hehe?


Somewhere Sideways

Chapter One

Memories

All of my memories keep you near.
In silent moments imagine you here.


She felt as emotionally drained as she did physically, she also felt entirely too dirty. A bath was in order, a nice, hot, steamy, and maybe even slightly lavender smelly bath. Creators, she was tired as she made her way into the main hall with her comrades closely behind her. They all bid her good night before dispersing toward their respected quarters. Though, why she was standing in front of the doors that would lead to the rotunda, would lead to him, instead of the doors that would lead to her room, she was unsure. A bath seemed far more appealing didn't it?

She knew he was in there, could see the light as it trickled through the cracks around the door. Intrigued about what Solas could possibly be doing awake at such a late hour, Lavellan pushed the door open and walked into the round room.

True to form, Solas appeared to be casually strolling in circles around the desk, his nose buried in one of his many books. His form was lithe and casual, strong and intense, and she begrudgingly admitted to herself that she enjoyed watching him.

His head snapped up, and her checks burned with the embarrassment of being caught staring.

"Hello, lethallan."

"Hello, Solas."

Solas stared, Lavellan fidgeted, seconds ticked by.

"Do you require my assistance?"

No, she thought, I just wanted to stare at you. Of course that wasn't what she would say though, unless there would be a hole for her to fall though. There wasn't going to be however, and she idly wondered if such a spell existed. Perhaps she would have to have a talk with Dorian about it the next day. Would be an easy way to get rid of groups of enemies, maybe even Corypheus would kindly step into one such hole. It couldn't be that easy, it was never that easy.

Solas was still staring at her expectantly.

Oh yes, he had asked her a question and was probably waiting for her reply. Her nervous half laugh echoed through the room, her mind too tired to try and think of a witty response.

"No?" Wait, she wanted to amend that, there were plenty of things that she would like his assistance with. Like scrubbing her back in the hot bath for one, yes, that would be enjoyable. Hardly appropriate however, she frowned.

"No?" The book in his hands snapped shut and was discarded on the table.

Great, now she had his full attention. Why couldn't there be a hole again? Oh that was right, she wasn't a mage. Definitely going to have to speak with Dorian. He walked toward her then, and the thought crossed her mind that he really had no right to look so appealing by just walking.

"I was just about to turn in for the night, shall I walk you?"

"Walk me … To your quarters?" Lavellan squeaked.

Solas paused, and she was sure it looked like he was contemplating the idea. She was too tired for … whatever this was, she should have just gone straight to her room. A small chuckle brought her out of her internal musings.

"Compelling, but no, to your quarters, Inquisitor." If she hadn't seen the smirk on his face she would have known it was there just by the tone of his voice.

The mirth that danced behind his eyes captivated her, threatened to devour her. She turned on her heel, "No, that won't be necessary, thank you."

Soft chuckles followed after her retreating form from the circular room.


She didn't understand. He hadn't explained anything to her, nor had anything become clear as he said it would.

Perhaps it was always meant to end this way. There had been no promises given between the two, no claims toward the other. Sure, declarations of love and shadows of intent, but promises? Never. In a way, today, the world was as it should be. Everything they had fought to protect, everything they had worked to achieve, it was all done. Well, in a sense, at least.

It did not make it hurt any less, did not fill the wound in her chest.

Why? Because he just… left, vanished without a trace, without a sign to show that he had been there, that she had just spoken to him. Of course, since there had been no formal "good bye" exchanged between the two she could fancy the notion that he could, by all means, come back. A soft, almost cynical in nature, snicker escaped rose colored lips. She knew she wouldn't see Solas again. Upon his refusal of her, of a life, a future with her, she could understand how he might see nothing left for him at Skyhold.

Lavellan stood, leaning against the railing on her private attached balcony, and stared out over the vast mountain scape toward the rising sun. Knowing this, knowing there was no point of holding onto memories of him offered little solace. Her heart ached in ways she didn't know a person could hurt. But even as she tried, she could not find the courage to leave him behind, to leave the past where it lay; dormant, cold, and unfeeling.

But he had left, he had let go to leave her in the past as it were. Today then, it would be the last that she would allow herself to feel her sorrow, even as she would still cling to the memories that were of him; their memories. Sadness may perforate through them, but there was no denying the happiness she had felt during those moments.

Lightless eyes watched as the grounds below erupted with life. Merchants were opening up their stands, the soldiers lining up for their morning drills, and if she listened intently enough she could hear the howls of laughter and drunken cheer from the residents within the tavern.

Still, she had her duties, her responsibilities to attend to for the morning. With one last sigh, one last moment of peace, Lavellan turned from the balcony and made her way back through her quarters to the main hall and finally into Josephine's office, pausing only briefly to exchange pleasantries to passing dignitaries.

Josephine, it appeared, was already hard at work.

"Ah, Inquisitor! If you have a moment, I have a matter that requires your attention."

"Of course you do. And which Duke is it that would like to shake the hand of the great and wonderful herald this time?"

Josephine didn't even bat an eyelash, so engrossed was she with the letter resting before her on the desk. "Actually, a farmer in the Hinterlands is petitioning for reimbursement from us for allegedly slaughtering his sheep, which was, it seems, his livelihood."

"His sheep?"

"Yes."

"How much is he asking?"

"1000 Sovereigns"

There was a long pause, Lavellan wasn't exactly sure if Josephine was joking or not.

"Extortion."

Josephine finally looked up from her desk and smiled sardonically "yes, most decidedly, but this is not what I need you for. Please, Inquisitor, have a seat." She motioned with a sweep of her hand for Lavellan to sit.

The seat was plush and velvet and far more comfortable than it appeared it would be. Josephine's smile suddenly turned wicked when she noticed Lavellan was inspecting her chair. "Commander Cullens, actually, or was, to be more correct."

Lavellan looked up confused, "I'm sorry?"

"The chair, its comfortable no? Poor Cullen will have to go without it now." She sighed a happy sigh "should never bet against an Antivan."

"Yes, a lesson I well learned from our game of Wicked Grace." Lavellan laughed. "Now then, shall we get to business?"


Calloused fingers brush her cheek. Sweet, gentle, loving.

Lips cover hers. Crushing, hungry, passionate.

A confession, a mistake, empty words that weigh too much. Alarming, hurting, burning, the tear slides down her face.

Confusion and sorrow, "I love you."

Regret and anguish, "I can't."


"Inquisitor, how would you like me to respond?" Josephine asked.

When there was no answer forthcoming from said individual, Josephine tried again, "Lady Lavellan? Are you to go and settle this matter or shall I call in a favor?"

Oh how Josephine disliked to be ignored, very, truly, disdained it to her core. "Ellana."

The use of her first name snapped Lavellan from her thoughts and back to the present, "No … I mean yes… I mean, I'm sorry what?" She gave a short laugh; the look on Josephine's face was almost priceless.

"As I was saying, forces in the Free Marches seem to be gathering, for what, I have not yet been informed. As the Inquisitor who defeated Corypheus and saved the world, you have the unique ability to calm the masses with your presence, or if you would prefer, I may call in a favor with a friend of mine up there."

"It's only been a month since his defeat, I would have though the people might have wanted to wait a bit longer before causing an uproar of some kind." She shook her head in disbelief, though it really shouldn't have surprised her.

"Be that as it may, the intel is not complete, and you do not need to be there."

"No, my clan should be in those parts during this time of year. I think it would do me some good to see them again. I will go and visit them after I grace these feuding lords with a kind hello."

"Kind?"

"Well, that depends on my mood really."

Josephine smiled a knowing smile, "As you wish, Leliana has the details of the mission."


Ever so slowly, Lavellan stepped into the rotunda. The room held a plethora of memories within its rounded walls. Solas had been gone now for a month, and yet everything was still just as he had left it. His books were still stacked next to the couch, paperwork still scattered across his small desk. It was … wrong. Even now, she knew if she were to close her eyes it would be alarmingly far too easy to imagine him standing close by. Always willing to speak of his travels, to pass his knowledge on to her, and how she had loved to listen to him speak.

A melancholy came over her; she missed him, more perhaps than she was willing to admit to herself. The ache however, had dulled with the passing of time. Even after he had rejected her in Crestwood that night, she had been able to still count on him being in this room. And that was what made it just so wrong, he was supposed to have been there, he was supposed to have stayed.


"You missed a spot." Lavellan spoke softly, not really wanting to disturb him but. that. spot. She was tired of it blaring its ugly head at her, it needed to be mentioned.

"I'm sorry?" Solas asked.

Lavellan came to stand beside the latter he was standing on and pointed up at the offending mark on stone. "Right there, you missed it."

"Ah, so I have." Lathering the brush with more paint, Solas reached out to run the paint brush over that section of stone again. Before bristles meet with wall, Solas realized, with mounting horror, the folly of this action. Time slowed for him and he was suddenly presented with three options; cast a barrier to try and shield himself, laugh hysterically at the comicality of it, or run.

Drip…

Still pondering his options, he watching with continued rising dread, as Lavellan blinked then brought her fingers to gingerly feel her now slightly moist hair. Moist from a drop of paint, a drop of paint that had just fallen from his brush.

"Solas…"

"Mhm… vhenan?"

She entertained thoughts of grabbing his bucket of paint and splashing its contents at him as she stared at her red fingertips. She also contemplated grabbing the latter and giving it a good shake, instead she settled with, "Is this your way of saying you prefer red heads?"

His laughter, deep and throaty, filled her ears. She turned her head up to watch him laugh; she loved that sound.


Sighing, Lavellan knew it would do her no good to linger within his old space, so she continued on, through the alcove and up the stairs and exited into the small library where Dorian was wont to spend his time.

Rounding to the other side of the room she found him, casually leaning back in one of the plush chairs. She noted, with a little amusement, his source of literature.

Hard in Hightown, how quaint.

"A little light reading for you today, Dorian?"

He laid the book down to lie against his chest, "Did you imagine that when we would be done with all the terrible nonsense, that a peaceful world would be so," Dorian scrunched his nose up, as if he could smell an insidious odor, "boring?"

Lavellan gave a very unlady like snort, "boring for you perhaps, but today is your lucky day! I've got a little adventure to go on and…"

Dorian jumped up off the chair, holding the discarded book in his right had so as to stop it from tumbling to the floor. "Say no more! I would be happy to accompany you, if only for a change of scenery."

"Great! We leave first thing in the morning!" Lavellan clapped her hands together, as a smile broke free.

"Not now?"

"No, not right now, I haven't even gotten the details yet from Liliana." As she spoke Lavellan pointed a finger skyward toward the level above them.

With a flourish, Dorian sat back down on the chair and stared at the book still in his hnad with dismay, "I may have to purge my mind later tonight, drinks?"

The smile that lifted her lips touched her eyes, "Oh yes please, but not so much that we end up regretting it tomorrow. Traveling with a hangover is not what I would call a good time."

"Positively dreadful." Dorian drawled.

With that, Lavellan chuckled and bid her friend till later, turning toward the staircase as she did.

The rookery was dark and smelled of crows … or were they pigeons? Lavellan shook her head at her own lack of bird species knowledge. A Dalish hunter she may be, but a studious one she was not, much to her Keepers dismay.

Lavellan noticed Leliana sitting at her desk, looking over papers with her head propped up on by one hand, the other hand idly toying with a black feather. Leliana didn't lift her head to acknowledge Lavellans advance toward her, but she also knew that Leliana was likely aware of the moment she had first stepped into the rotunda.

She watched her smile, dark and deadly. A predator if ever there was one.

"Josephine says you have intel for me."

"I do indeed." Here Leliana's head finally lifted and their eyes met. A sigh passed the bards lips, "Though, I confess, I do not think you will find it pleasant."

"I won't find it pleasant? What do you mean? I thought this was just a silly mission to go placate a pissing match between two lords." Lavellan asked, confusion marking her delicate features.

"Well, technically yes, but there has been a development. I was unsure if to tell you before we received more news." Leliana spoke slowly.

Lavellan watched her expectantly as Leliana stood from her chair and turned her back to her. The feather discarded to lie quietly on the desk.

"It's Solas."

One word, both music and torture to her ears. She longed to hear it and yet dreaded the implications of it. Calm, Lavellan thought, stay calm. "Have your scouts located his location?" To any passerby she would have indeed sounded calm if not for the slight hitch in her voice that betrayed her to Leliana, who in turn looked over her shoulder to the small elf.

"Yes and no."

Clear eyes narrowed, was her spymaster teasing her? If so, she did not find it the least bit amusing.

Leliana clasped her hands behind her back and turned her head to look forward again. "My agents have found someone who, after some persuasion, admitted to seeing him. It would seem our elusive friend has currently been through Kirkwall."

The news both excited Lavellan and made her weary. They would be traveling through Kirkwall during their travel to … where were they going again? Nevertheless there was a chance, slight though may be, that their paths may cross. What then? What would she do? Yell? Scream? Curse at him for leaving her, for leaving them all? Her heart felt heavy as she listened to the rest of what Leliana had to say about her next mission.

It appeared to be an argument over property and boundary lines. Simple enough to resolve as it was, not needing her presence to be there in the least. But the distraction would be welcome, and the chance to find Solas, too tempting to pass up.

She spent the rest of the morning at court, passing judgments over the pettiest of squabbles. All the while letting her mind wander back in time, to not so long ago, when her heart had sang with a lovers embrace.


Calloused fingers slowly traced invisible lines on her upturned palm. A small smile graced her features as she tilted her head back to see his face.

Happy.

Yes, she was happy, curled in a ball on the couch next to the man she loved. If only time would stand still so that the moment would never end.

"Ma sa'lath, Solas."

And then she saw it, the rare smile she loved so much. It was too rare, she would endeavor to make it less so.

"Ma vhenan."

His fingers left her hand to cup her cheek as he leaned in and kissed her softly. Her eyelids fluttered closed.

Happy.

Tbc.

Fanfic by Inca.


Yeah, I know, A LOT of flashbacks. There was a reason for that however. Hope you enjoyed it!

Glossary

Ma Vhenan: My heart

Ma sa'lath: My one love

Lethallan: Casual reference used for someone with whom one is familiar.

Creators: The elven pantheon comprises of five gods and four goddesses, whom the modern Dalish elves refer to as "the Creators".