It is cold in the prison of the gods.
The hand still clutches tight to her neck and keeps her from looking anywhere but out of the eluvian. Solas' image shivers behind the surface, violence and terror raging across every inch of his skin, as he paces in short strides like an animal caged. His gazes travels from her face to those beyond her sight. Keela cannot see them, but she can hear them.
There is metal scratching against stone that pierces her ears with high squeals. Something heavy drags on the ground meant to crush. Leather stretches, light mail twinkles like rain, solid boots stomp with purpose. The heightened breaths of beings readying for war echoes in this blank void around her, but it is the quiet laughter that pricks beneath her skin. It surrounds, chokes with its maddening lilt.
Keela struggles to turn around and face them even as her heart races, but she is a hostage with no control. Another hand clamps down with bruising force on her arm and pulls her back against hard plated armor, so cold it burns her flesh. She winces, but dares not cry out. The gods are vultures waiting for just a hint of weakness to tear her apart.
"Fen'Harel. How wonderful of you to bring us an offering." Her captor's voice rumbles through her, dark and powerful like deep thunder threatening a squall. The man speaks Elvhen and Keela calls upon the remnants left by the Vir'abelasan to understand.
Solas stops and places a mask of indifference over his features. He becomes that specter from her dreams, the one who wears pride as a weapon instead of a name. It is strange to see him as such, like a familiar story with a few words where she does not expect. "This is our quarrel and will not be settled in her bloodshed. If you take her life, be assured you will spend eternity trapped beyond there."
There is a hiss somewhere to Keela's left and the fingers holding her tighten in a quick pulse of anger. Nails like daggers pierce into her flesh and she can't help but flinch. The coppery tang of blood wafts up to her nose and she can feel the air stir as the unseen gods hear the call of her blood. The laughter turns to something even more sinister, the snarl of a hungry beast.
"Will you leave her here with us, then? I suppose it is a fitting thing for you, betrayer, to let another suffer in your stead. And suffer she will until you release us."
Pain unlike anything she's ever known shoots down the length of her spine. It is sharp like a thousand hot blades cutting over and over, but she will not let a scream escape her mouth and give them satisfaction. Whimpers slip through tightly sealed lips as the power seems to assault her for years, the length of torture never abating the agony. She is close to crying out when she is finally released from its grip. Keela hangs limp, skin shaking and weeping, as she tries to force air back into her body.
Fingers grip harsh into her hair and wretch her head back. Through the haze she can see Solas is closer, fury flowing off him in heated waves, but there is worry cracking the edges of his mask. She wants to tell him to leave, to turn away and never look back, but the command sticks to her parched tongue.
"She's a strong thing. We will enjoy breaking her, your vhenan." A breath full of hate and decay moves across Keela's cheek as another god makes its presence known. The woman's voice might have once been beautiful but it is laced with malice that raises gooseflesh. "Her torment will be a thing that lasts for centuries, for you have denied me prey for far too long."
"You-" The world inside the mirror pulses, pushing pressure against Keela's ears until she thinks her head will explode.
"Let us out!" screeches the mad god. She grabs onto Keela's unmarked hand and twists her middle finger until it pops. There is a moment of shocked breath before Keela feels the break and a shuddering moan tries to leave her mouth. Her torturer is relentless, leaving a few seconds for her to soak in distress until she grasps onto her next finger and yanks it backwards beyond the limits. Keela wants to scream behind her clenched teeth and barely sees the flash of a knife through the blur of her pain.
"Stop!" Solas' voice rings higher above the din in the mirror and then comes again softer, defeated. "Stop."
"Ah. Not so invincible when you finally have something to lose." Laughter rolls against Keela's back like ice drifted beneath her collar and she shivers.
"Will you swear to leave her be?"
"She is not the one we want, Dread Wolf."
"Swear it!"
Keela feels the god holding her tremble with restraint. "You have our word that we will not harm her for one full day. It is more than you deserve."
Keela catches Solas' gaze, seeing he has thrown away the mask completely. There is sad acceptance in his eyes again, and she struggles anew against the hands holding her, letting a soft cry finally escape her lips at this new pain. She would rather die than see these monsters released upon the world, to see her lover torn to shreds by the ones he once called kin. She tries to tell him this, but all she can muster is a broken no.
Solas holds onto the jawbone around his neck as his other hand reaches out to touch fingertips against the glass. He gazes at her alone and she knows by the sheen of his eyes that he will not heed her wishes. "I am so sorry," he whispers before the eluvian shatters into thousands of pieces.
The world blurs with light and motion too fast for Keela to make sense of what happens next. The hands around her do not loosen their hold as she is twisted and dragged out of the eluvian with the others. When things settle back into focus, she's pressed against a column of stone, a clawed gauntlet forcing her face towards the middle of the room. The air crackles with the power of gods finally free. It feels humid, oppressive, and dangerous. The Elven Pantheon shines in the darkness of the Fade and Keela cannot look at them for too long without her eyes burning.
Amongst their blinding ranks, she searches for Solas. He kneels on the ground nearby, arms held to the sides by two men. One is dark, skin like the coals of a furnace with a giant war hammer strapped to his back and eyes that simmer gold like cooling metal. The other could be Keela's brother save for the streak of silver through black hair and strange markings cut across every inch of flesh she can see through narrow eyes.
A woman stalks in front of Solas, wild red hair and violet eyes, with white armor tarnished by black stains and rust. A bow slings across her body while she flips a serrated dagger in trembling fingers. Keela can recognize her from the fresco - Andruil, the true betrayer.
Before she can catch more than a glimpse of the others, the hand beneath her chin forces her face towards her captor. Keela squints and struggles, eyes watering from being too close to this inferno. The god is a brilliant sunrise, gold skin and rye hair touched by scarlet. Heavy plate armor that shimmers like sunlight across water encases his enormous frame.
She can feel his name traveling through the blood in her veins, through the bones that connect her to every ancestor of the past. "Elgar'nan," she says, almost too quiet to hear.
But the All-Father hears her and she watches his clear, blue eyes cloud with anger. "Have the children fallen so far that one would address me so, as if we could ever be equals?" He tilts her head back and forth, seeing something beneath her skin. His gaze turns surprised, confused. "What has been done to the Elvhen? You do not possess the spark of immortality, yet you are most interesting. Something ancient wraps around your soul, something stolen and made to new purpose. And something else, something familiar..."
"What does she matter?" Andruil says. "Kill the thing and be done with it."
"You promised to let her go," says another voice, more beautiful than any bard's skill, and it ties a knot in Keela's throat that she tries to swallow down. "We do not break our promises."
"So gentle as always, Sylaise. Would you spare the Wolf too?"
"And as always, Andruil, you mistake my kindness for weakness. Fen'Harel will pay for his crimes, but not with her blood."
"Not today," another adds, tone strange like gravel scraping underfoot.
Elgar'nan releases her and Keela crashes back against the column, too worn to support herself alone. "I suggest you leave now if you can, mortal thing. You will not wish to witness what becomes of your wolf."
"No-"
His hand snaps forward and wraps around her broken fingers. Scorching flames shoot up her arm as he squeezes, lighting a fire she can't control inside again. Keela crumbles to the floor, face pressed into the grime. The Fade wavers in and out as the pain blackens her vision. Elgar'nan walks passed her to stand with his kin. Through the curtain of her tousled hair, she watches him tower over Solas as Andruil shivers with excitement at his side.
"We should question him before the deed is done. This world…it is strange. I cannot hear the call of the Elvhen," Sylaise says.
"We do not need him to be alive to learn his secrets. Let me bathe these stones in his blood and Dirthamen will read them for us." Andruil grabs hold of Solas' head, fingernails gripping tight to the bare skin to pull it back and expose his throat.
"Are you sure you want them to discover what I know?" Defiance ripples off him in waves now that Keela is safe, a sneer she has never seen curling his lips back. Andruil watches him with fierce eyes, the fingers around her dagger stuttering.
"What does he mean?" The new voice is quiet, childlike, yet manages to attract their attention. Keela watches a god of sparkling pure white approach, a delicate gold headdress twisting like halla horns from her forehead. At the sight of her, Solas' snarl softens and she offers him a sad smile.
"Nothing. He will say anything to trick us into sparing his life," Andruil replies.
Yet Elgar'nan regards him with renewed interest and steps closer, his stance no longer so threatening. There is something like wonderment in his gaze, a careful hope he does not want to let free. "I sense…what have you done with her, Dread Wolf?"
"I-"
"No, he must die!" Andruil raises the dagger high.
A growling scream leaps from Keela's throat as the weapon arches towards Solas. She thrusts the anchor forward, her surging anger and fear stoking it to life until the room burns with green flames of power twisting from her grasp. She does not believe she can defeat these powerful beings on her own, but there is something only she can do.
A rift opens amongst the pack of gods. They stare at it, shock stilling murderous hands, before Keela's magic begins to pull. For all their strength, they cannot escape against her fury and fly towards the whirling mass. Andruil yells in outrage, her claws trying to find purchase on anything, and Keela breathes a sigh of relief when she no longer threatens Solas.
One by one they all disappear until Elgar'nan remains. He alone seems to be able to fight against the tide of power with any success, though his feet drag slowly backwards all the same. Keela catches his gaze and sees cold vengeance in his beautiful eyes. She does not look away, matching him with all the stubborn strength of her own will, until the rift swallows him whole.
She closes her palm and seals the portal before they can find a way to return. The room falls silent, save for her labored breathing, and the still worries her. She tries to press up on the heels of her hands, but her limbs shake with weakness. "Solas?" When he does not appear, the worry turns to panic. Was she too late, did she send him away too? "Solas!"
"I am here."
When she sees him rushing forward, Keela lets out a cry that catches in her throat. The lingering pain and adrenaline crash down upon her and steal away what remains of her strength. Solas slides to the ground next to her and lifts her up in his arms She wraps around him, clutching with desperation. "Solas," she says over and over, his name the only steady point in the storm of chaos.
He makes quiet noises as fingers comb back her hair in soothing strokes until her breathing calms. Healing magic tickles down her spine and spreads through every nerve. It is cooling, calming, and chases away the aches and the foreign fire Elgar'nan left behind. Only her hand pulses with a burning pain that will not be thwarted so easily.
"I must set your fingers before they can heal properly." He pulls away and her own misery is mirrored in his expression.
Keela nods, head bobbing at a frantic pace. "Just do it quickly."
His touch is fast, gentle, but it does not matter. Keela groans as the first finger snaps back into place and cries out against his shoulder as the second is finished. She feels close to fainting as her stomach rolls until his healing power washes through her again, more urgent and demanding than before.
For a few minutes she can only sob into his comforting embrace until the pain and fear fall away enough for her to think clearly. Keela slumps in his arms, exhausted and clinging to consciousness. She needs to find them, fix this, but she can't keep her eyes open. "I can't, I have to..."
"Rest, vhenan," he murmurs against her skin. Magic wraps around her like a soft blanket, but she fights it with one last burst of energy.
"Solas," she says, grasping onto his neck and pulling him closer. "Don't...don't go."
He smiles and his warm eyes carry her off into the void. "I will not leave you."
Solas keeps his word. When Keela wakes to the soft crackling of a fire, he is there hovering above her. Her head rests in his lap with an arm draped protectively across her shoulders. When he notices her open eyes his hand gives a gentle squeeze.
"Where-" She tries to sit up, but his touch keeps her still.
"Take a moment. How do you feel?"
She breathes in deep, feeling the stretch pull at tired muscles and aching bones. Keela looks down at her hand and sees her injury wrapped in cloth and a hard splint. She winces against the lingering ache still radiating across her body, present yet far less severe than wounds she's suffered in the past. Fatigue clings to her like spiderwebs, but she knows she will be able to shake it off like so many times before.
"I'm all right." Solas cradles her hand in his, careful to avoid her fingers, and passes his healing through her skin. She sighs at the sensation, relishing the familiar rhythm of his magic she thought never to feel again. "What happened?"
"What do you remember?"
"I..." Everything comes back in flashes, bright and painful, banging loud against her memory out of order. She feels the sharp snap of her bones, the heat of Elgar'an's power slicing through her. His eyes hold universes in their depth, so strange and commanding, and Keela is nothing but a pebble to be trampled underfoot, unnoticed.
Solas watches her face contort with dismay and lifts her up to press against his side. "I am sorry for the pain you have suffered."
"I'm all right," she repeats and buries her face in the crook of his neck. "Where are we? Are we still in the Fade?"
"No. I have brought us to a place of sanctuary so you might recover in peace."
"Another of your temples?"
"Not precisely."
Keela glances up from the swath of pillows and blankets around them. It is a room the size of her quarters in Skyhold and the white stone walls glow green from the veilfire at their feet. She can see a few items of a furniture, bookcases bursting to the seams, and an eluvian wavering with blue light. Yet it is the ceiling that catches her eyes.
Moonlight shines through thousands and thousands of small stained glass pieces. The center is a star now shining with silver light, yet Keela imagines it burns gold when daytime pours through. Colors of blue, purple and green circle out from it and at the edges hundreds of black and white wolves howl into the sky. For a moment, the world outside and the turmoil within no longer exists as she's bathed in the light of veilfire and endless colors floating from above.
"It's beautiful." Unwanted, thoughts of her Keeper invade her thoughts. Deshanna kept a collection of glass statues hung with care from the roof of their aravel. Many were the days Keela woke to a world bathed in color and fractured light like she does now. She wonders if any of the artwork survives or if they lay broken in pieces like the shattered remains of her clan. Pain weaves through her heart, a heavy type no magic can unravel.
Keela retreats further into Solas' shelter, hiding away from her memories, as his words rumble through her. "It was a gift from Mythal after my ascension, for lack of a more appropriate term."
"What you do mean? You weren't always…" a god she wants to say, but even though her eyes have seen the truth of it and her limbs have suffered the touch of their strength, it is still a hard thing to believe.
"No, and it is a tale I would tell you given more time, and perhaps not when Thedas is in such dire peril."
"When is Thedas not in dire peril?" she asks and Solas' laughter echoes across the room.
"A valid point." He grasps onto her wrists, his thumbs making lazy circles into her skin, and his amusement quickly dies. "This should not have happened. I do not understand how they came to be in such an awakened state, nor how he was capable of reaching through the mirror. Now they are unleashed upon this world once more and it is my doing."
"We'll find a way to fix this." She brings her bruised hands to his face and kisses away his words. It feels so strange to be back here after so much time apart. She was beginning to forget what his lips felt like, how his love tasted on her tongue. Keela lets their kiss linger, tracing familiar constellations across his arms, until she feels him relax beneath her touch. "Or we could stay here, forget Thedas, live for ourselves for once until the world burns."
"Such a tempting offer." His grin returns although they both know it could never be a possibility. "Are you able to stand?"
They climb from comfort and Keela tests her trembling limbs, leaning against Solas until the sudden rush of dizzying lights disappear from sight. It is a slow journey to the awaiting eluvian, but she feels stronger with every step taken.
"I don't know where they are. I wasn't thinking when I opened the rift," Keela says.
"It makes no matter. I will be able to find them easily enough if they remain together."
"Do you have some sort of plan you're not telling me?"
"Only the makings of one. If I, or more accurately Mythal, can speak to Elgar'nan alone, it is possible this conflict could be resolved without unneeded destruction."
"Is she...are you..." She wants to ask how much of him is still Solas instead of the ancient god of justice, but the idea that she might not be able to tell the difference sits heavy in her stomach.
Thankfully, Solas seems to understand her hesitancy. "We are not like Mythal and Flemeth. I am merely carrying Mythal's spirit for without a body to hold it, she would pass through to the Fade and be lost in the mist. The best course of action would be to transfer her into Elgar'nan, for she could always balance his vengeance, but I do not know if he will allow me to be close enough for such a thing. Regardless, we will need to separate him from the others. If you could provide a distraction, I am confident I can pull him aside."
"Wait." Keela grabs onto his arm and stops their movement. She looks into his eyes, not exactly sure what she is searching for. "You're going to let me help you? After everything that's happened, after shoving me away from all this?"
He reaches out and wraps long fingers around the base of her skull. "I know I have broken your trust, but I spoke in earnest when I swore to remain at your side. I hope with time, you may forgive m-"
"Solas." She leans into his embrace and holds him close. Keela breathes in his scent, of pine and paint, and when his arms encircle her, she feels secure and protected, cherished and loved.
But he is right. There is thread in her heart that's come unraveled by his actions, although it does not mean she cares for him any less. The sight of him kneeling at the mercy of the gods replays in her mind and her fingers tighten into his tunic. "Promise me you won't risk Thedas for my benefit again. They must be stopped."
"That is a promise I cannot make," he says and Keela understands. Light from the stained glass ceiling falls in gentle waves upon his features, making him look like a piece of artwork all his own. The white light of the moon casts him in ethereal beauty, the blue and greens bringing out the plains of his face. She wishes they could stay like this forever, become a still painting ignorant of all the swirling chaos around them.
"I love you," she whispers and it feels so much like goodbye on her tongue that she squeezes her eyes shut to keep her worries locked away. Solas brushes his lips against her forehead, atop her closed eyelids, across the angles of her cheeks. Keela sighs into his mouth when his lips venture over hers.
"And I you, Keela," he says her name like a sweet benediction and rests his head against hers. The mark begins to sing as his hand squeezes hers and Solas turns her palm facing up. He watches the dancing flames with wonder and a grim smile she does not understand. "Your magic is shifting, I can feel it. I felt it across Thedas as you commanded the Fade. It is not an easy thing to assimilate the power of a Kindred. I would not want this for you, but there is no one more worthy if it comes to pass."
"A Kindred? What do you mean?"
"It will be easier to explain once we find them. We have already lingered too long. Are you ready?"
"Yes, let's go." Keela glares at the rippling glass and takes in a breath. Together, fingers laced and eyes determined, they walk into the eluvian and leave the glittering haven behind.