Two weeks prior
"The conclave! She survived, look at her hand, she must be at fault!" Cassandra whirled to face him. Her face was frenzied with anguish and it gave a ghoulish cast in the low light of the dungeon. "Can you wake this...elf for questioning?" The sentence was less of a request and more a thinly veiled threat carried on the hesitation to say her race.
Adan had been pouring potions down her throat for last hour to no avail and the lack of progress was wearing thin on both hands of the Divine. Leliana had nearly ripped the crater apart to find a shred of proof, anything to justify the death of the elf lying unresponsive at their feet. Her lust for vengeance loomed over the occupants of the room like a cloud. The tension mingled with loathing and pressed in on every square inch of skin like a vice. The emotions were as uncomfortable as they were potent.
"I will try. Not here though, I require somewhere less oppressive" Solas said.
Leliana narrowed her eyes as she regarded the two elves with cool disregard. "Very well, the hut by the gate. Surely that is adequate?"
"I had the old potion master's home in mind," he replied with special attention to a neutral tone.
Cassandra made a noise of disgust at that and gripped the hilt of her sword. "The dungeons are where she belongs. Outside of Haven's walls are out of the question." One armored boot nudged the body laying on the stone before them. "Get her out of my sight before I do something I may regret."
Adan scrambled to purpose and summoned his tranquil aide to move the woman. Solas watched with careful disinterest before he turned to leave. "I will need privacy to address this magic. Interruptions could have unexpected consequences." He knew the seeker would ensure they were not disturbed lest horrors be summoned by the mysterious magic at hand. A nightmare of abominations and demons running amok would ensure he would get the time needed to overcome this deviation from his plan.
The inhabitants of Haven gawked as Adan and his tranquil carried the limp form through them. Solas noted that most either sneered in disgust at the elf or were fixated on the erie glow of her palm. He was grateful when the hut was reached and the woman laid atop the threadbare blanket that covered a musty bed. His nose wrinkled at the smell of the room, abandonment smelt no different here than the ruins of ancients. Adan caught notice and gave a nod of agreement at the state of the shelter.
"I will gather some supplies and restock my potions. When I return this evening, I will bring something to knock the cobwebs down. Until then," Adan bowed his head briefly before the door shut behind him.
Solas revelled in the silence that followed while he looked over the space provided. He was more or less free of the nightingale's keen eyes here which brought a palpable sense of relief. She was too observant for comfort and more suspicious of him than Cassandra. This was the closest thing to actual privacy he'd encountered as of late. Content with the examination of the hut, he turned his attention to the woman.
She was covered in black soot and dried blood. The mixture of the two in her hair created a black plaster mask glued to the flesh of her face. He couldn't honestly say there wasn't a Qunari under the muck her features were so obscured. His mouth twitched up a bit in the corners at the thought of uncovered horns and the uproar that would cause.
With not much else available, he cut a square of the blanket away and summoned a sphere of water. He wetted the cloth in the sphere and began to wipe at the filth. It was slow work both from the amount to be removed and the chill of the wet rag that set an ache in his fingers after a minute or so.
He nearly lost his desire to see the face of the great derailer when a piece of muck gave way and revealed tanned and freckled skin underneath. The integrity of her mask compromised, it soon gave way completely. Solas sucked in a breath at the sight of her vallaslin. The symbol of Mythal burned almost metallic copper in the hollows of her face and seemed to glow even in the dim light of the fire. He forced himself to swallow the taste of bile at the sight and quieted the memories that stirred within.
Her cheekbones were well defined by both anatomy and hunger, he noted with some degree of curiosity. The dusting of freckles across the prominent planes of her face told him she enjoyed the sun more than most and it almost seemed to be leaves on a tree when considered with the vallaslin. He glanced briefly at her lips and noted they were drawn in a tight grimace even now. Her palm pulsated with each heartbeat and charged the air with an unmistakable scent of magic that threatened to overwhelm the senses. He pried one eye open and nearly jumped at the deep molten gold that focused for just a moment on him. It was not so common to see that color among the Dalish, or at least he had not encountered it in the last year during his travels. It was an older color from his memories.
The inky dark tendrils of hair that wisped around her face moved with every breath and belied the struggle that each one took. Solas pursed his lips together while he considered the enormous strain she was under with his magic coursing through her veins. The fact she was not ripped asunder by it was a testament to the unconscious woman in and of itself.
With his observations complete, Solas began the slow and methodical work of stitching her back together fiber by fiber. He pried with his magic in an attempt to quell the chaos within her and noted with some shock that there was magic of her own there already entwined with his in an attempt to tame it. The recognizable green was streaked through with blue the color of midday sky the closer to her core he wandered. Rather than risk corrupting himself with her, he turned his attention to her extremities where his power ran rampant and unsullied.
It was an arduous task to bind a piece of himself within her flesh and knit back the hole in her hand where it had spilled out in excess. He refused to close it entirely for fear of being unable to set it free when the time came or risk having it tainted if sealed within her. He had not seen this type of encroachment before, but he rarely invaded the soul of another to begin with. It was something to be researched before he trifled with it again.
Time had slipped by and chased the sun from the sky much faster than Solas would have liked. He had his power tucked away from prying eyes for now, but it would not last forever. The hands of the Divine needed someone to punish after all. He sat in quiet thought, eyes focused on the elf before him. Her grimace was gone and the color returned somewhat to her cheeks.
A knock at the door brought him back from the recesses of his mind. Adan soon appeared bedside while the tranquil woman set about to clearing the signs of disuse from the hut. "She looks better already, breathing is even at least."
Solas hummed in agreement as courtesy demanded before he stood and headed for the door. "I will return when you are finished here." He hadn't noticed how heavy his eyelids had become until he'd seen the alchemist stifle a yawn moments ago. The Fade called to him and he had questions for a friend there.
