A week later, I'm back at Skyhold. The Inquisitor has hardly spoken a word to me since that night in Crestwood. I find myself missing our time at Haven when we would talk and be so at ease. It seems like a different lifetime now, a memory as distant as those of Arlathan. It all changed when Hawke arrived, or perhaps Dubois is the cause. Perhaps I sabotaged myself. It is not as if they would not have been a recurring event. In any case, I should not dwell on it. It is better this way.

In the Fade, I find Wisdom. I tell her everything that has happened and explain my fear that the Inquisitor's mind has been wounded. I express my desire to help her overcome it, but by my own pride, I have made it impossible for her to trust me. I see it every time she looks at me - a ground shaking emotion of disappointment and self-loathing. The exact things of which she did not need more.

"Has she given you any reason to believe that she is not in her right mind?" Wisdom asks.

I think of everything that has happened and how carefully and thoughtfully she makes her decisions. With the exception of her willingness to risk her own life, I cannot think of a single situation where she seemed unhinged or her emotions were unpredictable. She has great empathy, but her emotions do not control her. She is neither cold nor distant, though she might sometimes retreat into herself.

"No," I admit.

"Then, perhaps this is not a question of likelihood, but of trust. Lethallin, do you trust that she is telling the truth?"

"I trust that she believes it to be the truth."

Wisdom sighs and shakes her head.

"Whatever the truth is, if you wish for her to forgive you, it is her truth you must accept. Only once you accept it will your offer of help be welcomed."

"I suppose you're right."

The following night, I go to see the Inquisitor. She has kept to herself, burrowing herself in work again from what Varric tells me. As I walk up the stairs, I hear a sad and mournful yet hauntingly beautiful tune emanating from her instrument. I knock on the door, and I hear Atish'an barking. The door opens, and the Inquisitor looks at me with an emotionless expression.

"Good evening, Inquisitor."

"Good evening," she replies with stoic politeness as she walks back up the last stairs.

Atish'an looks at her and whines, then greets me with affection. As I walk up the stairs, I see her desk covered in documents and papers. Varric was right. She stands on the balcony, looking out and playing her violin.

"It's a beautiful tune. What's the name of it?"

She looks at me as if she can't decide to be amused or upset. She stops playing and walks towards the bed.

"It's called 'The Lost Elf', but I doubt you came here to discuss music."

"Inquisitor, about our discussion at Crestwood-"

"You know, I'm tired. I think it's best if you leave." She sighs and turns her back to me.

"I … Perhaps you're right. I'm sorry." I sigh and turn to walk down the stairs as Atish'an whines up at me.

"I know you are," the Inquisitor replies softly and without malice as I leave.

I return to my quarters and realise that there might be nothing I can do to make this right. Sleep eludes me as I turn in my bed. I normally have no trouble drifting away into the Fade. Instead, my waking mind torments me with what I should have done. I made her feel broken when in truth there is nothing about her spirit I do not admire. I twist in my bed again, playing every scenario in my mind that would have ended better. I wished to help her, but I offered no such confidence in me that would have made it possible for her to accept it. I did not need the explanation I sought so desperately. In the end, it doesn't matter. I could simply have let myself appreciate her as she is. Frustrated, I place myself on my back and look out the window where I see the brightness of the universe in the frost-covered night.

I see her standing on that hill in Crestwood, her astute gaze turned to the stars with complete fascination. I would have joined her looking up at the stars and stood behind her as she asked a question, her back pressed against my chest as she would look to where I was pointing. I would look down at her as her eyes sparkled with curiosity, then lean in to kiss her deeply. My heart would beat faster as she turned in my arms and sighed. I would have pressed her body close to mine and deepened the kiss further as my tongue would brush against hers. My lips would taste her neck as I led her backwards into the cabin. With a spell, I would light a fire and heat up the room as she pulled at my clothes. She would push me back with one of her coy smiles as she undressed before me, her eyes glistening with desire and a faint blush the only part that would reveal her modesty.

"Vhenan," I sigh breathlessly.

It's not until the endearment leaves my lips that I'm aware of my actions, and at this point, I can't be bothered to care. At the very least, I can allow myself this minute bit of happiness. I unbind my breeches and arch my back as the fantasy consumes me.

The warm comfort of her spirit would be reflected in her soft skin set alight by the glow of the fire. Her eyes would darken as she bit her lower lip with a grin. As I swallowed, she would laugh kindly, as she always does, and I would catch her in my embrace with a kiss. Slowly, we would lower ourselves onto the rug, and I would explore her and she me. I know I would shower her with endearments and try to convey just how dear to me she has become, but none of them are coherent at the moment. My pulse spikes as I imagine my hand on her thigh as I press my body against hers. I recall how my name sounds on her lips, and I'm lost. Nothing comprehensible goes through my mind - just her. Every memory, every touch, a surprising kiss in the Fade and black silk across her skin are glimpses that push me further. As I moan another endearment, my chest rises from the mattress, and my heart aches at what could have been.

After cleaning myself, I turn to my side and fall into the Fade imagining that if I were to reach out she would be there next to me - peaceful, sated, and happy.

I have just delivered my report to the Ambassador when she detains me. I have thought it best to keep my distance from the Inquisitor and focus on what truly matters: recovering the orb and destroying Corypheus.

"Oh, Solas, may I suggest chocolates from Val Royeaux?" Josephine suggests politely.

I turn and give her a confused look.

"I don't pretend to know what has occurred between you and the Inquisitor, but I know generally she is not one to avoid apologizing, which leads me to believe it must have been something … unpleasant that has happened between you," she clarifies.

"Are you trying to play matchmaker, Lady Montilyet? I would think a noble would suit her better than an elven apostate," I jest with a wry smile.

Josephine chuckles in an apologetic and polite fashion.

"Not at all. You are, however, her friend. The Inquisition has benefited greatly from your vast knowledge, and the Inquisitor especially values your counsel. Having things be less tense between the two of you would be of benefit."

"I was not aware this was so publicly known," I frown.

"Oh, not at all. I would not have known if not for a comment Edward- I mean, the Herald made yesterday. I believe he meant for me to discuss this with you."

Of course, the Herald would be responsible for this.

"I will take your suggestion under advisement," I reply dryly. I will need to have a talk with that man.

"Excellent! She has a particular fondness for chocolate-covered licorice."

I can't hide the disgust on my face, and she giggles.

"I know, a truly awful combination. Regardless, it has been known to win her good graces on more than one occasion."

"I hesitate to ask how you came by this knowledge."

"She had a falling out with the Duke De Montfort a few years ago. Her close friendship with Divine Justinia made it dangerous for him to lose her favour. If the rumour speaks true, she did not speak to him until he had bought her an entire crate. Also, I have noticed it's the first thing she eats whenever we attend soirees." Her smile is playful.

"Rest easy, Ambassador, the Inquisitor and I are both professionals. Should we have any disagreements, I can deal with the matter." I bow and walk out the door.

I grow determined as I exit her office. It is one thing for the Herald to be concerned, but to meddle in my private affairs and involve the Ambassador is quite another. I find the Herald outside of Skyhold training his magic by himself. He is improving, but his magic and technique still leave a lot to be desired. I know he feels that he is not up to the task, and honestly, there are quite a few mages here more gifted than he is. His heart, however, is in the right place, and despite his religious beliefs, he is fair minded and just. He almost hits me as he twirls, but I hold my ground with my arms crossed.

"Have you been training with the First Enchanter? Stop front loading your barriers."

"Maker! You scared me, Solas!" he gasps.

I do not intend to waver around the subject.

"I just got some interesting advice from the Ambassador."

He rubs his neck uncomfortably.

"I swear I told her nothing about … well … you know. I simply said you had a disagreement with Mona and if there was any way she knew of that would get her more likely to speak to you again."

"I fail to see how this is any of your concern."

"I'm a hopeless romantic." He shrugs with a nervous smile.

"Well, you do seem to have a liking for hopeless causes. At least that much is true," I agree, though I'm not in the least bit amused.

"I … I know … I'll stop meddling. I promise."

"Very well … now what are you doing out here?"

The Herald gives an exasperated sigh and sits down in the snow.

"It has been brought to my attention that I need to specialize my talents. Josephine already has prospective teachers lined up for me. But I'm … embarrassed."

"I'm sure they are accomplished teachers, Herald."

"I'm sure. But … I'm the Herald of Andraste, but before this I was just an average mage. As in completely average. I didn't excel at anything. I passed my harrowing, but after spending time with you and Cole, it just seems like an absurd test that meant nothing. I already play the part of the fool. I would rather not have a teacher who confirms that."

"You are not a fool, Herald. Simply … impulsive,"

"The Enchanters at the Circle said I'd never amount to anything. I was hoping, however, that you would teach me."

"Me?"

"Wouldn't you enjoy proving to Vivienne that you would make a better teacher than the Circle?" he grins at me.

I laugh. "Appealing to my pride?"

"Depends if it's working," he laughs.

I sigh and stand next to him, offering him my hand to get him to his feet.

"Do you even have an interest in becoming a rift mage?"

He looks at the anchor on his hand.

"Solas, I don't know what this is or how it works. What I do know is that I'm the only one who can close the rifts. It's my obligation to learn more about them." He is as serious as I have ever seen him.

"Very well, if you insist. Because you are my friend and nothing else." I raise an eyebrow and the Herald nods. "Now, let us begin. Close your eyes. Focus on the vibration in the Veil…"

I train him for hours, and though he might not be the most naturally gifted, his determination and willingness to listen to my instructions make up for it. I quickly see improvements in him - even if they are simply minor ones. I'm responsible for putting this burden on his shoulders - be it indirectly - at the very least I can give him the training he desires. Had his teachers been more patient with him, he might have excelled.

As we walk back to Skyhold, he asks me about spirits, memories, and ancient ruins. I admit I enjoy his company.

"How about a drink, Solas? You better say yes, after what you did to Blackwall, I'm not offering to play cards with you." He grins, and I chuckle.

"Alright. One drink, then I really should be getting back to my work."

Cole meets us at the gates, seeming distraught.

"What is the matter, Cole?" I ask.

"She needs your help. Please help her," Cole urges, and we run after him towards the entrance of Skyhold.

As we approach the main hall, we are met by Varric and Cassandra, both with worried expression on their faces.

"Thank the Maker, there you are!" Cassandra sighs with relief.

"What's going on?" the Herald asks.

"Chuckles, you better come quick."

I follow Varric and Cassandra into the rotunda. The Inquisitor is painting on the walls that I have yet to paint myself. But it's not calm or collected. Her hair is in disarray, she is covered in paint, and she keeps painting on top of what she has already painted. It's as if her mind is constantly changing the imagery she is trying to illustrate. Dubois is standing next to her and trying to reach out to her. She doesn't even sense his presence. Cole tries as well, but he is having no luck either.

"I had the library emptied. No one but the ones present know of this," Cassandra points out.

"I've never seen her like this," Varric mumbles with worry.

"It hides. Masked by memories as fragments and embers intertwine. She reaches across mindful, meaning. Making it real here," Cole mutters.

"Solas, can you help her?" Cassandra asks.

"I will attempt to do so, yes." I turn to them, "If you would give us some privacy."

They nod and do as I ask. Only Cole and Dubois are a little reluctant, but they eventually follow. I walk up to her and see her face smeared in paint as her hands brush over her face in frustration. My heart cries out at her obvious anguish. Did I push her to this? Had I handled the situation at Crestwood differently, would this never have happened? She starts to pinch and slap herself as if she tries to keep herself awake. I take her wrists gently to keep her from hurting herself.

"What are you doing, Inquisitor? This behaviour is unlike you."

She looks confused. She has no answer to give me, then grasps her head.

"I … I was told to do it."

"By whom?" I frown with concern.

She shakes her head in frustration.

"Solas … help me," she pleads.

"Just look at me, Inquisitor," I say softly as I reach for her face, helping to steer her gaze towards mine.

"Good, now look passed me and relax."

She stares deep into my eyes, and the odd sensation I felt in Crestwood seems more present now.

"I sense something. Faint, but present. And not entirely you."

Her expression turns distraught, "If you're trying to tell me I'm mad again-"

"No. There is something present. It's collecting knowledge. A task with simple goals, but it's effect compulsive. From the breach. The Fade or … ah … No. Not the Fade. Your dream at Therinfal Redoubt," I realise. The presence is drawing on her - a link I can't quite determine the cause of.

She pulls from me as she seems to wake from her trancelike state.

"I'm fine, Solas. Nothing is wrong with me. I'm sorry I bothered you."

I hold her shoulders firmly but without hurting her.

"Inquisitor, listen carefully. When you were trapped within Envy's dream, something happened to you."

She looks at me again for the first time with a look that seems like her own.

"Envy did this?"

"Not directly. You sent Envy back to the Fade, but spending so long in its dream ... something happened to you. Your mind was wounded and your spirit is compensating, as you might tuck an injured arm to your side."

The look she gives me is pained. I can tell it hurts her when I mention her mental condition.

"Now that you are aware of it, there is no true danger. This impulse is simply an annoyance. If you wish to deal with this, I suggest you return to Therinfal." I try to assuage her worries.

Hopefully, she will trust me enough to get the help she needs.

"Wonderful, I'll be swimming in Red Templars before lunch," she snarks with sarcasm.

"Regardless, this problem began there. It should end there."

She releases a deep sigh.

"Then, I guess I will have to leave."

"I'm coming with you," I declare, and she frowns at me.

"I'm not sick, Solas. I can handle myself," she objects passionately as she tries to walk passed me. She doesn't want my help, but she must accept it. No matter how much she might despise and mistrust me, she must see reason.

"I really must insist."

"You always were bloody stubborn," she hisses.

As she walks passed me she nearly trips, and I catch her by her waist.

"You're exhausted. It wants you to lower your inhibitions and numb your mind so that it may learn more," I warn as I keep her standing.

She looks up at me with a vulnerable expression.

"Solas, I'm afraid."

I hold her close.

"I know, lethallan. I know," I coo softly. "It will be alright."

I see Cassandra waiting respectfully at the door. She wasn't able to hear our conversation to its fullest, but she remained close enough that should anyone try to interrupt she might send them away. I nod at the Seeker, and she comes to help me.

"She needs rest."

"And a bath," Cassandra agrees.

Cassandra and I get her up the stairs to her room, but she is barely conscious. Atish'an greets me at the door with a whine. The Inquisitor doesn't even notice her. Cassandra takes over and makes the Inquisitor lean against only her.

"I'll get her cleaned up," the Seeker murmurs and leads the Inquisitor to the bathing chamber.

I walk to her desk and look over the documents. Maybe something here can reveal what is happening. I see schematics and documents that all either relate to her experiments or dealings with the Inquisition. I find a lot of drawings of a small boy. They don't look exactly alike, but it seems to be meant as the same one, as if the person drawing them did so from a memory they couldn't quite recall. I see drawings scattered and crumbled. They resemble the same imagery as the paintings of the wall. Some are unfamiliar and depict areas and contraptions that I have no idea as to what they are. Others seem to be glimpses into Thedas's closest future. I see Wardens and Empress Celene. Some look like ancient elves with vallaslin. And a lot of wolves. I frown in concern. Each one is either torn or crumbled. I walk to the fireplace and see the remnants of drawings.

"What did I do to you?" I whisper with a deep sigh.

I hear the door and turn to see the Inquisitor, her hair damp, wearing loose clothing, and leaning against Cassandra. Her fatigue worries me. How long has this been going on unnoticed?

"I can walk, Cassandra," she objects softly.

"I know, but I feel better knowing you get to the bed in one piece," Cassandra offers gently.

Cassandra places the Inquisitor on the bed. She is nearly unconscious, and her hound jumps up on the bed next to her and looks at me with a pitiful whine.

"I know, my friend. I'll help her," I assure the dog, who brushes my hand with her nose.

I cast a small spell, making her fall asleep.

"Can you help her?" Cassandra asks with great concern.

"I believe so, but we need to travel to Therinfal. The Envy demon wounded her somehow. That she has gone this long without showing any signs says a lot about the endurance of her spirit."

"Alright, we leave first thing in the morning then," Cassandra states.

"I think it would be better if I went with her alone. This is a very … private matter," I explain, and Cassandra nods.

"Understood. Bring Cole and the dog at least. They are probably already aware. I will have everything prepared so that you can leave early in the morning. I will keep what happened between those already involved and the advisors. Hopefully, she will recover soon."

"Thank you, Seeker." I nod, and she gives me a sad smile before leaving.

I start healing the Inquisitor when I notice she is covered in bruises and do what I can to make her comfortable. I cast wards that might protect her mind from whatever is trying to invade it.

Atish'an looks up from her master and whines softly. Dubois stands on the top of the stairs with a worried expression. I get off the bed as he walks over to us. He looks down at her sleeping from.

"How is she?"

"She is stable, for the moment. As for what compelled her to act so out of character, it might be the trauma of losing her family. I won't know for certain until we reach Therinfal."

He gives a grim nod and rests a hand on her hair.

"Go on, you can ask me," he says vaguely.

"Ask you what?"

"What in the name of the Maker she would be doing with an arrogant fool like me." He gives a huffed chuckle and sits down on the bed carefully

"When I met her, I moved through the world like a ghost. I paid no attention to the life around me and saw only my obsessions - my work. The most heroic deeds or worst atrocities were mere footnotes to me."

I feel a chill run down my spine as he talks. The similarities are not lost on me.

"But for some reason unknown to me, she saw me. She touched something inside me I had thought long dead and brought it to life. I started to see the world through her eyes. She showed me just how little I knew. It was like having seen the world in nothing but shades of grey, then suddenly seeing a spectrum of every colour in the universe."

I wish he would stop talking. Every truth he says rings so clearly in my mind, and it is nothing short of pure torture.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"I loved her for years, and I know nothing of her past. If you know more than I, you must be aware of just how much trust she has placed in you." He gives a regretful sigh as he strokes her cheek, then gets up to leave.

He turns at the last moment and looks at me.

"Make sure she gets out of this unscathed, if you can. She is … well, the world is more meaningful with her in it."

"I will do what I can."