"You've got to eat something."

Ellana looked up from the depths of her tankard, startled. She hadn't been expecting anyone to approach her.

"Thanks Varric, but I'm really not hungry," she replied.

She could see the concern in his face, but it mattered little to her. It'd been months, and she felt more and more hopeless every day. With a sigh, Varric sat down next to her.

"I know you miss him, but you can't go on like this," he pleaded.

"According to whom?" Ellana asked.

"Normally I'd agree that drowning your sorrows is a perfectly reasonable thing to do, but this time I'm inclined to side with Varric"

Dorian strutted over to their table. "Great," she thought, "more people to try and cheer me up." She knew her friends meant well, but she just couldn't bring herself to be happy. How could she? Solas had promised her answers. He promised that everything would be explained after the battle with Corypheus. How could he just disappear? She let out an exasperated sigh and downed what was left in her tankard.

"If you really want me to feel better, how about getting me more ale?" Ellana retorted.

"Not this time my friend," Dorian said sadly. He set a platter of food in front of her. "Please, just eat."

She reluctantly picked up a loaf of bread and took a bite. Normally it would have been delicious, but all food seemed to be tasteless anymore. She chewed thoughtfully, and was so lost in her thoughts that she didn't even notice the tear rolling down her cheek. Varric reached up and wiped it away with a small, calloused hand. Dorian reached within his robes and handed her a silk handkerchief. Her face flushed, embarrassed by showing such weakness in front of her friends. She angrily wiped her eyes and stood up to return to the bar. Dorian gently grabbed her arm.

"He's not coming back," he said softly. "I know you miss him. I know you love him. But he's been gone for a long time now. You need to let go. You need to move on. You're an amazing woman and you deserve so much better than this."

"You know he's right," Varric chimed in. "Leliana's been looking for him nonstop and she's found no signs. Shit, if anyone in Thedas could track him down, it'd be her. If he doesn't respect you enough to come back and give you the explanation he promised, then the bastard doesn't deserve you."

"You're wrong. Both of you," she spat. "He has his reasons. Just because I don't know what they are doesn't make them any less valid. He'll come back. Just wait, you'll see."

She turned on her heel and marched angrily out of the tavern. They didn't understand. They would never understand. She stomped through the keep, her mind reeling. It had been all she could do to keep up appearances to the nobles and common folk day after day. Her strength was too drained anymore to keep the façade up in front of her friends as well. She thought they'd be understanding, and for a while they were, but anymore they were accusatory. Saying that Solas was some heartless jerk, like they even knew anything about him. She couldn't stand to hear their slander, not when she had known the real him. Or at least, she thought she had.

Without realizing it, her feet had carried her to the rotunda. Ellana ran her fingers across the rough walls, looking up at the murals painted upon them. Solas's work. The walls had been bare when they'd arrived at Skyhold. He gradually filled every inch of them with vibrant color. The beautiful images stared down at her, a haunting reminder of all that she'd lost. She used to rush to the rotunda every day, skidding through the halls to greet her love in the morning. "Vhenan," he'd say with a smile as he looked up from his books. Now the hall was empty, his melodic voice long since silent. His books and papers still lay spread across the table. The workers had tried to clean them up on countless occasions, but Ellana always stopped them. She didn't have the heart to move his things. She pressed her forehead against the cool plaster of the wall, breathing deeply. Being here with all of her memories calmed her. Solas would hate to see her so upset. She knew that, even if it was his fault.

She grabbed one of the books off of the table and retired to her chambers. Ellana had flipped through the books many times, but it was hard to make heads or tails of them. They were mostly ancient texts containing within their pages the histories of every different civilization. She had caught Solas reading Varric's books a few times. Unlike Cassandra, he was never ashamed by it. He'd shrug and simply state that "The dwarf has a way with words."

She hadn't taken the book to read, however. It was more of a source of comfort to her, to have one of his belongings in her hands. She lay in her bed and clutched the book to her chest, allowing her tears to flow freely now. She wept and wept until all of her strength was gone, and eventually slipped into a fitful sleep.

In her dreams, Ellana crossed into the fade. Being a mage, she had always been warned not to do so. Her keeper had warned her that she could risk demonic possession if she was not cautious with her wanderings. It didn't matter to her now. She knew that somewhere, Solas had to be there. He loved the fade. She willed herself to return to Haven, as the two of them had so long ago. It felt much emptier without him there. She had come here many times, hoping that she could recreate that moment when they first kissed, but she was without success.

"Solas!" she shouted at the top of her lungs. No response. Again and again she shouted. As she did every night, Ellana began to wonder the fade, screaming his name to the heavens.

He crept silently into her room. Leliana's spies were of no concern to him now, not with his power returning. He simply had to will himself not to be seen and it would be so. The fire in the grand fireplace was low now, merely embers glowing in the darkness, and the room had grown cold. He walked to the fireplace, quietly placing another log into it. Flames leapt from his fingertips and lit it, filling the room with light and warmth. Hesitantly, he turned and walked toward her bed. There she laid, her face tear stained, blankets thrown off in a fit. He noticed one of his books in her arms, white knuckles gripping it tightly against her chest.

"Ma vhenan…" he sighed and shook his head. "Why must you do this to yourself?"

He pulled the blankets back up over her shoulders, shielding her from the cold. His heart ached as he looked down at her small, shivering form. She'd gotten thinner, a result of not eating no doubt. Dark circles ringed her eyes. She hadn't been sleeping well either. He reached up and brushed a strand of pale white-gold hair off of her face, his hand lingering against her cheek. Every night he came to watch over her. He saw how she wept, and tears fell from his own eyes as well. More than anything in the world, he wished to return to her. But his search for a way to free the gods did not go well. With his orb broken, he needed to find another way to unlock the ancient prison he'd put them in so long ago. Until he could undo the damage he'd caused the Elvhen, he could not return to her.

Even if he could, what would she think? How does one go about telling someone that they are truly an ancient elven god? Would she even believe him? She was clever, and more open minded than most. He liked to think she would. But she would no doubt be angry with him. Perhaps even angry enough not to forgive him for leaving. But as much as her tears broke his heart, they gave him hope that she still cared for him and would welcome him back with open arms. That hope got him through many lonely journeys searching for the answers he desperately needed.

The sun was beginning to rise over the mountains. He needed to leave, lest he be discovered. He leaned down and pressed his lips gently against her forehead.

"Ar lath, ma vhenan," he whispered, and then he was gone.