Of Guilt and Gods

A lot of this is sitting squarely in the head of Solas, sorry about that. I know I am telling and not showing. What little dialogue there is, is at the end. If I can remember to do it, I'm putting the dreams in italics. If you don't see italics, message me please or write it in a review so I can fix it. Stupid cognitive issues. And there is a bit of swearing but not much. If you will excuse me, I have some Red Templar to go kill. You know, in DA2, I saved Samson but I had a bad feeling that it was going to come back and bite me in the butt. Damned if it didn't.

6.

During Fen'Harel's uthenera there had been little for his conscious mind to do but linger in the Fade and dream. The circumstances now were unusual, in that since he had become the temporary host for Mythal, he had experienced less control over his dreams than ever, which was particularly bad when he was spending more time in the Fade than was his custom, too. Mythal had assured him that it was normal, having gone through the same thing herself countless times through the years as she changed hosts. She was welcome to it. He could not stand the feeling of being invaded; that he was losing access to part of himself, part of his intellect and it was entirely due to her presence, even though she was dear to him.

His return to the reality of being Fen'Harel and not Solas, having to give up the happiness and sense of belonging he had felt for the first time in centuries while he played the role of Solas, was hard enough without Mythal's ability to see his deepest thoughts, watch his most private dreams and memories. She declared it his fault due to a lack of control, brushed aside his embarrassment and taught him how to stop it from happening, unless he initiated the contact with her himself.

However, his lack of control over his dreams had remained. He'd begun to dread the experience for the first time ever because it was if he had become the rider of a runaway horse. It did not matter where or when the Dread Wolf entered the Fade, his dreams would soon wrest control from him. They would go where they wanted, where his subconscious wanted and there was apparently naught he could do to prevent it. And that meant they went to Ellana, whether she was dreaming at the time or not.

Because there remained the additional complication of his conflicted, painful feelings about Ellana. Fen'Harel missed her the way he would miss his magic if it suddenly disappeared. He had removed a part of himself he'd never thought to find when he'd ended his relationship with her. But no amount of missing her or feelings of guilt or the wish that circumstances had been different would change the necessity of their separation. He believed it was the tie to Ellana and to their compatriots in the Inquisition that had contributed to his difficulty in giving up the role of Solas and once again being Fen'Harel.

Had circumstances been different, he would have allowed himself to grow old and die with Ellana, have a family, surround himself with friends and loved ones and count himself a lucky man. But circumstances weren't different and his inability to let go of that experience was detrimental to his purpose now. It took great care and focus to avoid attracting despair demons when he was in the Fade.

So Fen'Harel was instantly aware that he was dreaming and that he had been pulled away from his intended destination in the Fade. That meant Ellana was here and in a powerful, active dream or nightmare that involved him. This situation was a completely unexpected problem that existed outside of his knowledge or experience. His research had turned up no answers, no trails to chase.

Mythal claimed that she knew nothing helpful either and said she found the situation to be a suitable and amusing punishment for Fen'Harel having deserted the girl. She told him he was a fool for throwing away such a rare and precious gift as the love they had for one another, that things would work themselves out if only he gave it a chance; an unexpectedly romantic notion coming from her. (The goddess was unable to exercise any influence over her new servant while she was taking up space inside Fen'Harel because he refused to allow it. Mythal was less than amused.)

Only once had Ellana been aware of his presence in the Fade, just after the defeat of Corypheus and his own sudden disappearance. When he had backed away rather than speak to her, he had watched as her smile had crumbled and he'd popped back to the waking world before the tears welling in her eyes had fallen. Cole had appeared in the Fade with her the next night.

The spirit of Compassion was aware that Ellana's most potent dreams and nightmares tended to pull Solas to her side (as far as he himself knew, Cole was not aware of the true identity of his friend), yet another unusual side effect of the Anchor. The Dread Wolf did not interfere or make her aware of his presence and so Cole simply kept watch, having kept to the letter of his promise to never tell Solas what he did for Ellana. Demons to nightmares and spirits to dreams, denizens of the Fade were attracted to the Anchor and likely always would be. It drew them to her as they would be drawn to a mage, only she had none of the mage's skills to defend herself.

Fen'Harel would ordinarily leave Cole to his vigil and not invade Ellana's privacy by observing but during strong nightmares Cole welcomed his assistance in defending her from the demons. Fen'Harel would put wards around Ellana until Cole was able to talk her out of the nightmare. Then she would leave the Fade by waking up, never having been aware of Solas's presence or assistance.

Tonight, however, he did not sense Cole's presence in the Fade. Fen'Harel was aware of dawn and daylight approaching in the waking world. He also knew from Cole that many nights, Ellana failed to find her rest at all. He assumed Cole had determined she would not sleep that night and gone. With no way to alert Cole, Fen'Harel dared not leave her side. He put up such wards around them that the wards for his personal use looked like a camp tent beside a fortress. The dream was thankfully pleasant, though painful for him to watch from the shadows.

They were preparing for a night's rest in her quarters as they did many nights. They were both nude; he was leaning against the headboard of the bed and she leaned back against him, her skin warm and silky against his. His hands and lips roamed her shoulders, her neck, and oh so gently removed the hair pins keeping her braids in place, encouraging the strands to drape over her shoulders.

Ellana dropped her head forward and sighed with pleasure. He had left the nape of her neck pinned last as he always did in this routine, knowing that the hollows behind her ears were especially sensitive and deserving of extra attention. A few moments of tenderness and teasing passed and then she raised her head so he could move her hair to rest on her back and begin the process of untangling it with his fingers, soothing his troubled spirit at the same time with the repetitive, gentle movements.

The end of the ritual was always the same. Solas would rest his chin on her shoulder and wrap his arms around her. He held her tightly (and wished he would never have to let go). Ellana would hug her arms against his, rest her head against his for a moment and then turn to him for a kiss. He always happily obliged. No matter how battle weary or sore they were, the routine was always the same. The kiss may be passionate or intended to comfort; enjoyable activities may or may not follow but this time with her had been a constant that he had come to depend on each night.

If he was honest with himself, he would acknowledge that every time they had done this, even from the first, he had left a little piece of his spirit in her care, where he knew she would keep it safe. A part of him would always be with her and belong to her now. He believed she had done the same with him and perhaps that was the reason her dreams called to him so strongly, the reason it was still so painful now to let go. That the Anchor was not calling to him but that she was. They might never truly be free of each other.

Each time he was involuntarily drawn here, if she was having this dream he would struggle to leave, not eager to be reminded of what he had walked away from. But leaving now was not an option without Cole to protect her. Fen'Harel expected to be forced to sit through a dream where they made love or even just held one another to sleep through the night. But that was not what happened.

On the bed, Solas finished smoothing her hair out. He gathered it into a ponytail that he held in his left hand and spent some time kissing her shoulder, nibbling her collarbone. His right hand reached under the pillow behind him and pulled out a knife. Ellana was completely unaware, completely relaxed and therefore completely vulnerable to him.

With a growl, he bit down hard on the spot between her neck and her clavicle, holding her still, drawing blood. She began to scream and struggle, not as the dangerous fighter he knew her to be but as a scared untrained girl would fight, slapping at his arms ineffectually. He pulled hard on her hair, bit down harder on her shoulder and she was immobilized and crying. With a grunt of satisfaction, he cut with the blade and removed her hair along with a generous portion of her scalp.

Blood began to flow and spill on his face, run down his chest. It tasted of her; it tasted good. He dropped the severed locks on the bed and grasped her remaining hair, pulling her head back so her face looked up at him. Her eyes were terrified, her fear delicious. Her vallaslin was there and the Dread Wolf wanted it gone. He scraped the edge of the knife down her face until he'd removed all of it and turned her face into an unrecognizable bloody mess. And then he let her go.

She crawled off the bed, fell to the floor and when she struggled to her feet again, instead of running for the stairs out of the suite, she ran for the balcony. He left the bed and followed her, took her in his arms and kissed her hard, licked the blood from her lips. She calmed and responded to the touch of his lips, the solid band of his arms trapping her to him. He then released her and she nearly fell.

He reached out with his right arm, pushed magic into the skin over her heart and left a wolf's paw print there. He had branded her as his. Then with a smirk on his face he pushed her over the balcony. She did not scream as she fell. For a moment, there was darkness.

Fen'Harel was horrified. There were no words to describe how he felt, how he knew she must feel after that experience. No wonder she had Cole guard her so closely. He prayed that she was unable to remember most of the content of these nightmares, that it would fade upon waking as it did with most non-mages. But there was more.

A rocky plain appeared before him out of nowhere. It was next to a tall, steep and rocky hill. There was a white light at the top. He recognized it from the vision they had all been shown when they entered the Fade physically. This was where she escaped from the Fade the first time. What took place next was not the reality of her escape, but the false memory she had described to him.

Ellana appeared, her appearance normal again. She was running and obviously terrified. The hill was slippery with loose gravel and she fell more than once but kept climbing. Then he could see why. Demons chasing her, endless numbers of demonic entities that lived physically in the Fade. They looked like spiders with hundreds of eyes. And they were chasing her for all they were worth.

As she climbed Ellana drew closer to the white light, which resolved itself into a figure. She was close, the demons right behind her. The glowing figure stuck out its hand and grasped hers tightly but made no effort to pull her up. Ellana struggled to continue to climb but made no progress with her hand bound. She looked up and saw that the figure who held her was Solas. He smiled and for a moment she looked relieved, but then he spoke, "What we had, it was never real. You were merely an enjoyable side benefit." The demons reached her then and he let her go. She looked at him as they dragged her away and watched as Solas simply turned around and disappeared. Ellana screamed his name for a long time, then there was silence.

For his part, Fen' Harel was grateful that one could not actually vomit in the Fade. He knew she would be furious at him for watching her private pain, for interfering. But he could not continue to watch her nightmares for hours. He would not. Not when he could change things for her. Demons were indeed circling but the wards were holding and would continue to hold until he took them down. They did not need his attention. Ellana did.

He made his way over to where she was now lying on the ground face down, sobbing. She was not aware of him and so he knelt by her trying to decide the best way to approach her. Funny how the only time he was ever indecisive was around Ellana. It was time to make a decision, however, as the area around them began to resolve itself into the place he'd taken her the night he took her vallaslin and then looked at her beautiful unmarked face for the first time and proceeded to break both their hearts. This setting would absolutely NOT do.

With a wave of his hand, he put up a neutral area by the water near where they had freed his friend, the spirit of Wisdom. Ellana was now face down sobbing on a soft, thick bedroll. As remnants from her own nightmare, her clothes were shredded and her flesh cut and bleeding in places. Another wave of his hand and her hair was fixed in its customary style, she was dressed in the beige suit she wore around Skyhold and her injuries were gone.

"Inquisitor." Fen'Harel spoke softly and received no response. "Inquisitor. Ellana." Those words were spoken louder and she tensed but did not move. Carefully, he placed his hand between her shoulder blades and rubbed gently. Soothing circles. "Please. Sit up and speak with me. You are in the Fade, and have drawn quite a large number of demons to you. My wards are holding, but we need to get you out of here."

Without warning, Ellana rolled several feet away from him and came to her feet in a crouch, ready to do battle. She muttered to herself, "Don't talk to it. Don't fall for that again, stupid girl." Looking around her she saw that her guardian was absent, that dozens of demons pressed around a familiar blue barrier, unable to pass. "Cole! COLE!"

Fen'Harel stood slowly and stayed where he was, hands visible and still. He spoke quietly, "Peace, Ellana. Cole is not here. It is morning at Skyhold, past daybreak, and you have not been here long. I believe he did not realize you would fall asleep."

Ellana stood, looked around and seemed to realize where they were. "No! NO! I am not having that dream, not again." She put head down, her hands over her ears. "I freed Wisdom as fast as I could. It wasn't my fault. If I could swap places with her I would because I know you loved her, but I can't and her death was NOT MY FAULT!" She was screaming by the end, tears rolling down her face.

Fen'Harel's chest hurt so hard he could hardly breathe. The generosity and selflessness of her willingness to sacrifice herself for him to have someone she thought would make him happier (though where this idea of mortals having amorous relationships with spirits came from he had no idea), just as she had been willing to sacrifice herself at Haven so hundreds could survive. Few things surprised the Dread Wolf anymore but this woman did it over and over.

He knew that the Fade broke open the private fears and pains that a person had so that they could work through them in their subconscious. She would not be hurting this badly in her waking life, just dealing with the lingering issues of their relationship in the Fade because he had not stayed around to explain things. Should not be, anyway. He supposed nothing was certain. But this was a hurt he was responsible for, an injury he'd dealt to the one he loved and cared for above all others.

He did the only thing he could think to do in that painful moment. Fen'Harel strode forward confidently (it was an act) and took her in his arms into a tight hug and simply held her. He whispered soothing words in her ear, things like dah'len and ma vhenan, and so sorry. He ran his hands up and down her back, projecting enough warmth to be soothing. He kissed her forehead and her hair times beyond counting and whispered how much he loved her, how proud he was of her. He told her everything but the reason he couldn't stay, which was what she most needed to hear. He stroked her hair softly, massaged that spot near her shoulder blade that always knotted up when she was stressed. And eventually she was able to pull herself together and push herself away.

There was a bruised appearance to her eyes and a hollow look to her face. Generally these were Fade signs that the person was so burdened in the waking world with depression, with duty, with any overwhelming struggle that wore their spirit down to exhaustion. They believed nothing would ever be right again. And he was to blame for most of that damage. Some of the strain of their ordeal with Corypheus and her bearing of the anchor had begun to tell on her in the Fade before he departed, but it had been nothing like this.

She rubbed the tears from her eyes and drew a shaky breath. "It really is you isn't it?"

"It is." He confirmed.

She shook her head sadly. "I should have known Cole couldn't keep a secret."

He couldn't help it, he reached out a hand and with his thumb, stroked a tear away that she had missed. She leaned into his hand as if she were a plant reaching for the sun. "It wasn't Cole's fault. Something to do with the Anchor, I think. It pulls me to you when your nightmares are especially intense."

A pained look crossed her face and she closed her eyes for a moment as if she was one more piece of unpleasant news away from the straw that broke the bronto's back. "Yet another reason to hate this thing. I swear, as soon we're sure the last of the fade rifts are closed, I will have that hand cut off."

Immediately after she'd finished making what he wasn't so sure was a threat, she grabbed at her head and doubled over in pain. After the episode had passed, she stood and growled, her focus on herself. "I told you, you bitch, that if you keep doing that then when my work as Inquisitor is done I will hang myself and leave instructions to wrap my body in oilcloth, seal it in lead and bury it in the sands of the Hissing Waste, miles and miles away from any water. What will happen to your precious Well of Sorrows then, eh?"

When she looked at him again, all Fen'Harel could do was blink in surprise. She gave a short laugh (you know, the mad scientist one) and told him what he was pretty sure he had already figured out. "I'm not the polite little thing you left behind a few months ago."

"That much is obvious." He could hear the concern in his own voice.

"Well, I took your advice about one thing at least. I hardened myself against the pain. I am sorry that my nightmares cause the Anchor to draw you to me, primarily because it is such an intimate invasion of my privacy."

He shrugged as casually as he could. "In truth, I usually set up wards for Cole and take my leave, because I know you would hate that invasion. Even now, when time permits, I work to find a way to free you from the Anchor. To find a loophole in your servitude to Mythal. I want so much for you to have your freedom."

"I will never be free again, not of the anchor and not of you. I have accepted that. I will handle the situation with Mythal in my own way, in my own time. I need something from you." Her eyes sparked with anger, daring him to refuse.

"If it is something I am able to give, then it is yours."

He could feel the tension radiate off her body as she tried to control her emotions, her voice. "Because you removed it from me under false pretenses, because I can never be part of my family or clan or any other Dalish clan again without you to explain the truth, I need my vallaslin back."

Fen'Harel sighed, "I understand. But that is not something I can do from the Fade and my physical location is... well, several months journey away from Skyhold. I will send someone to you. It is fortunate that you had already worn Mythal's vallaslin because I am sure she would have had something to say about you wearing the mark of another god." He smiled at her, a peace offering. Though the thought of her covering her face with the slave markings pained him, he would have them returned to her if it made things easier for her.

She gave an angry smile again. "I don't give a damn what she thinks about it. Make sure the person you send is prepared to stay a while. I want some other work done. They will be well compensated, of course."

Instead of answering, he gave her a little bow. The bow of a subordinate to one greater than he, in preparation for leaving to fill the order. "It will be taken care of at once."

Cole, possessor of the most fortuitous timing in the known universe, popped in at just that moment. "Inquisitor! Ellana! Are you all right? I brought you breakfast and found you asleep. I shouldn't have left you, I'm so sorry."

She gave the first genuine smile of the day to Cole. "It's okay, my friend. You are here now. And since the cat is out of the bag about Solas, we no longer have secrets from each other. I'm sure that will make things better."

The spirit of Compassion sighed in relief. "Good. It was so hard, him not knowing and you not knowing. I'm not used to having to watch what I say around my friends."

Ellana patted him on shoulder. "I know. And friends shouldn't keep secrets from one another. They always come out and it just makes for unhappy friends and sometimes broken friendships. Now, my dear friend, I think I'm done here. Will you pop back to my room and wake me up? Give me, oh, about 30 seconds to say goodbye."

Cole looked cautiously from Ellana to Solas and back. Then he did as requested.

Ellana then looked "Solas" straight in the eye, stepped closer to him and said, "This plan of yours, to isolate yourself from the friends that care about you and from me when we love each other so much? To walk a solitary path until you restore the elves all by yourself when you know that your friends and I would be there to help you, as you have helped all of us. That together we give you a much greater chance of achieving any goal? You know, that plan?"

He could do no more than nod. Then Ellana stepped forward, grabbed his collar and kissed him for all she was worth. He'd missed her so much for so long; he wanted her so badly. She knew everything he liked in a kiss and within moments he was responding, holding her to him.

Then she pushed him away. Caught unaware, he stumbled a bit, head spinning. "WORST. PLAN. EVER. History made you out to be smarter than this, Fen'Harel."

And with that, she was gone.