CHOICE OF THE CHAMPION
Part III: SEA AND LIGHTNING
Chapter 8: Truth, Revealed
Chapter 13: The Truth, Revealed
This isn't healthy, the thought raced through Hawke's head as she slid her fingers across Solas' smooth cheeks, his mouth hot on hers, their taste like desperation, longing, and regret. This is probably the least healthy thing I've ever done. Which is saying something. His skin was feverish, even the marble-like lines of his scalp. She trailed a finger along his long, slender ear – something she'd remember from Fendon't think it- and Solas bit back a moan, and maybe a half-pronounced elven curse. She couldn't keep track. The room seemed to be spinning-
But he understood. He understood the sickening, stomach-turning thought of doing irreparable damage, something that cannot be helped and cannot be fixed. He had been right; by allowing Anders to do his task, by actively helping him, she'd shattered the world. And it led to deaths; Grand-Cleric Elthina, First Enchanter Orsino, Knight-Commander Meredith. All dead. And then, after the positions of power… people. Killed by the blast that had been made possible by her ingredients. The gentry of Hightown. Jean-Luc the dress seller.
And then…
Solas pushed her backwards. She fell on the rug, but not before dragging him down with her, a strange challenge in it; they tumbled down, a tangle of limbs and mouths, and she pushed him to get on top, but then he criss-crossed a rune on her neck and her arms suddenly became too heavy to move-
"You cheater," she panted under him, and he chuckled darkly.
"This from a human? Fight back, Champion."
Fight back. She had. She had and it'd only led to more deaths. She'd fought back in Forthing, but she'd failed to save the herbalist – the skull cracking open against the stone, he'd dead, just because of prejudice you've unleashed he's dead. - Then she'd fought back the prejudice, let go of the cleric, spared her, let understanding and compassion triumph over hatred –
- and then –
The ship on fire. My staff! Fenris disappears under the board –
- he disappears –
She bit him on the neck, hard, hard enough to draw blood. She'd almost expected it to be black, like abomination's, but no – it was living, pulsating, red blood, tiny droplets rising to the surface in the shape of her teeth. Solas caught her face in his hands and bit her lip in retaliation, and she knew that was going to swell. But it didn't, not just then. It just felt-
Not alive. But less dead inside.
His tribal necklace was pressing against her chest, thrumming with unknown enchantment. She drew on that energy, focused on its signature, and, pressing her tongue against his clavicle, marked a couple of simple lines. You're not the only one capable with runes.
He shuddered.
"Not bad for a human, eh?"
Something like anger flashed in his eyes, and in an instant he was crushing her, tearing down her tunic and shoving his tongue down her throat. If the energy in the air was spilling before, now the dams were open, and his magic felt more like a relentless current, blinding her, making the entire hut spin, the blue line of history and the wolf whirling around them…
She reached out to stroke the line of lyrium along his jaw-
It wasn't there.
The shock of it almost made her cry out.
Solas stopped. He was watching her from above, pupils dilated, every inch the wolf she'd discovered him to be, whatever it meant.
"Hawke."
She stared at him, her hand still half-outstretched helplessly, searching to close on something that wasn't there.
That was never going to be there.
Her eyes filled with tears almost against her will. Her hand fell down limply, as if the string that had been holding it was suddenly cut loose.
Solas watched her for a long moment, his eyes following the spilling tears with strange keenness. Then he rolled over to the side, wiping the blood from his neck where she'd bitten him.
"I'm sorry," she whispered without thinking. Solas shook his head.
"Don't be childish, Hawke."
"I'm not. I'm sorry, I wanted this. I wanted you to feel less…" She trailed off. She'd wanted it as much for him as for herself.
"A noble sentiment," his voice was gentle. "Yet the execution strained you."
"I thought-" Speaking became impossible as the tight knot in her throat grew larger. She laid flat on her back, staring at the roof of the hut with blind eyes, trying to understand the despair that was coiling within her. It was so much like Fenris. Like the first time. Desperation and anger and just trying not to be alone, and then – and then…
Solas laid down at her side. He wasn't touching her, but the heat and magic still radiated from his skin.
"Tell me," he whispered in the dark, and in the corner of her eye she could see him stare at the ceiling too.
She let out a strained breath.
"I lost someone."
"How?"
"I-I don't-" She choked on her own voice, drowning in the thick, overwhelming emotions that had never really stopped being there, she'd just put a blanket over it, hid it with everyday activities and searching for her new powers and asking questions and wondering about Solas, she's been walking on the air this whole time, too afraid to look down-
Now she was falling.
"How?" No pity. No mercy in his voice, just a question waiting to be answered.
"A-a ship was on fire," she stuttered. "A revenge. We w-were trying t-to… to put it down…"
"And?"
"I told him- it was my f-fault-"
"What was your fault, Hawke?"
"I t-told him to get my-my staff…"
It was like ripping out a thorn from inside her heart. It tore through muscles and bones through her ribcage in excruciating pain, but it was out there now. It needed to be out. She was openly crying now, wet, pathetic sobs getting long in the darkness of the hut.
"… and he died, S-Solas, he died b-because I… I told him to-"
He let her cry, curl up into a foetal position until her entire body was just a shivering ball of concentrated grief, closed and intense but flowing out. He was dead, dead, not coming back, and there was no way of understanding it, accepting it, finding out why, because there was no why – no reason for his death as there had been no reason for all the other deaths in the explosion, in the Qunari explosion, in the Blight, by illness or by a murderer's hand –
her head was pulsating with tension, temples still and aching, and she could hear the hollow thuds of the heart in every shaking, hollow breath she gasped for.
Just – breathe –
just breathe, Hawke.
There was no way of knowing how long she had been lying there, sobbing unconsciously in the throes of her unexplainable grief. Solas was still and unmoving at her side, attempting neither to calm nor comfort her.
When her breathing slowed down back to calmed, regular rhythm, his voice sounded in the darkness.
"Rest now, Hawke. When the dawn breaks, I will ask you a favour."
"W-what-" her voice seemed too thick to get through the throat. "What do you want me to do?"
"You'll open the orb for me."
The orb. The one he was keeping in his pouch at all times. The geode, thrumming with unknown enchantment, veins of green minerals bright on its surface…
"Why?"
"I will fix my mistakes," he said in the dark, sounding almost apologetic. "I promise."
"How-"
"Rest now," he whispered, touching her temples. She could feel him pulling her inside the Fade, and resisted almost on instinct; but then she could see his face over hers, and his eyes brimming with regret as his thumb traced a soft pattern on her forehead. "You did well tonight, Hawke. Save your strength, da'len… melava somniar."
She drifted away, rocked to the sound of his voice as he hummed an ancient lullaby in the darkness, seemingly half to himself, half to some old memory that shimmered in the shadows of the hut. The last thing she recalled before she slipped into the dim lights of the Fade was a touch of his lips, a soft kiss pressed to her forehead.
"Ma garas mir renan… ara ma'athlan vhenas."
-/-
The morning air was cold and crisp when Hawke woke up. There was a fur thrown over her; without surprise she realised it was a wolf's pelt. As she walked out in the sun, huddling the fur close and swatting away Vindr's enthusiastic licking, she saw that the grass of the clearing was covered in crystal frost.
Winter was there. Solas, however, wasn't.
Her lip was swollen from where he'd bitten her last night.
In the sharp light of the morning, the events of the night seemed like a dream. She'd raised the sea. She'd kissed Solas. He'd told her, I will fix my mistakes, eyes sad and regretful before she'd fallen asleep…
The orb.
Her grief was still there, sharp and painful, but – for the moment, in the frosty cleaning flooded by morning light – it was not overwhelming.
She went to the creek to look for him, Vindr trailing behind her, but he wasn't there either. She sat down at the side of the glimmering stream, feeling the cold air over the frozen ground, and how it made her blood run quicker; the entire world seemed sharper, as if it had finally found its edges, every contour sculpted precisely with fine lines of frost. The water seemed an extension of herself, an easy current of power outside of her, a delicate floating line of power.
Hawke closed her eyes, letting her mind flow with the stream.
She sensed him approach before he made himself heard. Without saying a word, Solas sat next to her at the stream, and slipped away; it was as if his spirit had left the body, leaving only the slow breath and languid, lazy heartbeat behind.
Everything in the forest was still, as if spellbound in waiting.
"Hawke." His voice was gentle, and she wondered whether it had been her breakdown that caused him to change like this. Or whether he'd finally come to respect her.
"Yes?"
"There is something you must know before I give you the orb." A short pause followed, the deliberateness in his choice of words almost palpable in the air. "I don't seek absolution. Only repentance."
She opened her eyes to finally look him in the face. The morning light was casting a delicate array of shadows on his smooth scalp, marking his features even sharper. Every emotion was clear, as if marked with a contour: sorrow, regret, determination.
"What does the orb do?"
"I told you that I made mistake. It split the world in two, causing death and misery beyond understanding. With your help, Hawke… I would tear down that wall."
"Who died? Your clan? How old are you, Solas?"
A shadow went through his face. "Yes. A clan, in a manner of speaking. I had… a people once. A responsibility, which I sought to fulfil in a way I thought right at the time. But instead, I saw them die, and I fell into slumber that weakened all the power I might have had. But now I would bring them back."
"The elves?"
"My elves. If you will grant me your help."
"Does it cross the Veil?" asked Hawke, and she saw his eyes widen. Score. "Solas, I have a brain. You can't tell me these things and just expect to take it at face value. Not with you concerned."
He relaxed, although the sorrow still gleamed through his eyes. She didn't understand it. "You guessed right, Hawke. They're within, the Dreamers of old, and along with them all our power that was lost. I want to reach across the Fade and bring them to the waking world, to at least attempt to right my wrongs."
An old Dreamer, who once closed off his people in the Fade. Now awakened, he would bring them back and atone.
If I could only do the same, perhaps bring Kirkwall back-
"I'll help you, Solas."
He reached out and squeezed her hand. No words were exchanged. They sat together at the creek, listening to each other's heartbeat in the silent forest.
Solas was the first to stand up, pulling her upwards. "We're going to need more space than this." With these words, he tugged at the Veil around them – she barely managed to close her hand on Vindr's collar – and, as the space and time swirled in a spiral, the now-familiar stature of the wolf flashing in front of her eyes, they were back at the Storm Coast.
Solas furrowed his brows, clearly displeased. "Why have you brought a dog?"
"It's not a dog, it's my dog. Would've thought that over Maker knows however long you were squatting in Ferelden, you'd soak up our Mabari-loving attitude. Besides, he's now mad at me for leaving him behind before."
Vindr gave a long, thoughtful look. Solas tsked, then turned back to the sea. Hawke noticed that, like her, he was wearing a pelt of a giant grey wolf.
"You went hunting?"
"It calms me."
"Are you nervous?"
He flashed a rare smile. "Perhaps. I… worry, Hawke. You cannot erase a crime by reversing the world back to what it was. Even if I made it so that nothing was changed, which is of course impossible… you cannot will into inexistence the years of death, loss, and suffering that I caused. There will yet be the price to pay."
"But that's for when they are here."
"Yes." He unclasped the pouch from his waist and, very gently, took out the green geode. Holding the orb protectively, he murmured an enchantment, and she felt how strong the wards around it were only when they'd disappeared.
The sea was murmuring at his back, the pale-grey colour of the waves against the almost white morning sky.
"Why here, Solas? This can't be far from where you found me first."
"No. It's almost the same place. Do you remember why you landed here to begin with?"
"You told me that the Veil was the weakest here."
"Precisely." Solas cradled the orb in his hands, as if unwilling to let go. When she raised her eyebrows at him, he paused; for the first time she saw hesitation in his eyes.
She extended her arms, swelling the magic in the palm of her hand, the slow coursing of the sea currents echoing in her blood. Her power was back, and it was time to pay him back. Taking without giving is shameful… and it's time to do at least one thing right.
"I'm ready."
"I'm sorry, Hawke," he whispered and unlocked the spell.
-/-
Pain. Blinding, searing pain. White agony, as if her entire body was bursting from within, turning inside out, every vein aflame, every cell screaming in excruciating torment, her skin peeling off at the scorching heat that consumed her body, soul, every living fibre-
Torture.
She couldn't move, couldn't scream, the world turned green with the sick glow of the orb, there was fire in her throat, burning her from the inside so she couldn't even make a sound – even a squeak – stop – STOP –
- please –
six eyes, six red lidless eyes, watching her with intensity but without mercy as she was burning alive, singed skin and meat peeling off the white bones, the smell of charred remains in the air, just like Kirkwall, your fault your fault your fault -
something began twisting in her scorched insides, like a sack of vipers bursting open, slithering, venomous, green, a sensation of being ripped apart, the flesh coming apart as the opening wound tugged at her with the might of an earthquake, her magic pouring out like blood, she was bleeding out, and with every seeping drop the tug of the spell became stronger, mightier, grander, greener, the demons so close that they sneered her in the face, NO! but the magic was almost gone, not enough to heal herself, not enough to crawl shedding the burnt skin on the rocks, not enough to even scream-
- why –
She was dying in agony, and on the horizon she saw the green lights of the Fade, the distant shape of the Black City, it's like falling asleep – just like falling asleep –
"Stop!"
He snatched the orb from her hand and she fell face down in the sea, choking, dying, the wolf pelt red with blood- Vindr was howling wildly-
the wolf clasped his mouth around her neck, pulling her out.
A flash of green light.
"Come back, Hawke."
The Fade retreated, the demons wailing in anger as their connection snapped shut.
Solas' eyes were not green. They held its ordinary, greyish, boring colour. And they were opened wide over her, rueful and disappointed, sorrow radiating from his features like something palpable.
"You're not immortal," he said over her head. Words had no meaning. He could as well be speaking about the weather. "It would have killed you for nothing. All of it… for nothing."
He pressed a soft thumb to her face. "I am so sorry."
She coughed. Solas whispered an enchantment, cupping her cheeks intimately, and she felt the scorching burn in her throat ease up.
"Not… immortal?"
"I need an immortal to open the orb. There has to be a way, and I have time." He seemed to be talking to himself. "No more mistakes. No more mortals in the way… not as long as I don't have to."
"What- what are you even talking about?" she wheezed. His eyes refocused on her.
"I'm sorry."
"Y-yeah, me too." Something hit her. "All of it? What'd you mean – all of it for nothing?"
Solas held her for one more second, pressing his forehead to hers.
"I was trying to save my people," he said, almost pleading. "Please. There is no erasing what I've done. And there's no forgiveness. But if you ever find it in your heart to understand, Hawke, just to understand…"
"Yeah-" She coughed again. "I understand, Solas. That hurt like hell, and next time you can do it yourself, but I under-"
He let her go, sliding her down gently on the fine sand.
"Your lover is alive."
Hawke's heart stopped.
The world shrunk to one speck.
"I knew from the moment I found you, Hawke. You punched a hole through the Veil, I remain unsure how… You channelled your entire native power into it, and you folded the Veil for thousands of miles to send him home. I traced you because I knew you held the power to help me open the skies, the power that would shake the world and bring back the elves…" Solas rambled, but she barely heard him. The pounding in her temples grew deafening.
Fenris is alive.
He's alive.
I saved him. He's alive.
He's been alive this entire time-
A caustic wave rose through her stomach to the throat-
"You knew." It was no more than a whisper, but it cut him off immediately.
"I knew," he conceded quietly.
"And you didn't tell me." A memory flashed in her brain, I kissed him. And then I cried, mourning my lover WHO WAS ALIVE AND SOLAS KNEW-
"I needed you."
"You're sick," she spat, and he recoiled. The regret and sorrow in his face finally had a concrete reason, but she didn't care, it was way beyond her capability to care. "Was it fun, watching me squirm and cry and grievefor weeks?! Is that what you're into?! Taking people and tricking them into doing whatever you need, and then discarding your toys because they're no longer useful?! Telling women their partner's dead so you can have their way with them-"
"I deserve this," he said, the hurt evident on his face, "but please-"
"Oh no, no you don't. I am done hearing you interrupt me, Solas. If that's even your real name. You don't get to please and listen your way out of his. I almost broke. I almost lost my mind because I thought he was dead and I was ready to die because there was nothing else to live for on the entire earth, and- and-" she stuttered. "You needed me?! What the hell did I need, Solas?! Has it ever crossed your mind?!"
"Constantly," he said quietly.
"So why?! I want to hear your reasons, hahren," she spat with bitter irony. "You want me to understand?! Give me something to understand. Because right now, this- this is sick. "
"You had the power. You could have open the gate for me. But if you'd slipped away…"
"Has it never crossed your mind that I could've done everything for someone who gave Fenris back to me?!"
Silence. Solas looked down.
"I'm sorry, Hawke."
"No. No, you're not. Because if you needed it again, and if this… this thing happened again to you…" She looked him straight in the face, and he seemed to recoil at the anger in her eyes. "You would do the same thing, Solas, wouldn't you? You haven't learnt a damn thing. You still think that your cause justifies all those atrocities you've done to me."
He shook his head. "I don't deserve forgiveness."
"No. And I'm not going to give it to you."
"Hawke-"
"You know where he is, don't you." Solas gave a slow now, and her gaze hardened even more. "I hate you so much right now. But I can't kill you, can I?"
He shook his head just as slowly. Hawke gritted her teeth.
"Where is Fenris?"
"In Seheron."
"Where?"
"You sent him home, Hawke," he said softly, and she clenched her fists at the gentleness in his voice. "Where he comes from. The spirits tell me he has become the bearer of great power, and a warrior in a fight for freedom. He searches for you."
Her insides spasmed violently at that. He searches for you. He searches- and I didn't even know-
"You twisted, sick-" she bit back a curse. That could wait. But her heart was beating out a crazy-paced staccato, and there were things that absolutely could not wait. "Take me to him. Right now."
She expected him to protest or open his arms helplessly. But Solas merely nodded. "This is perhaps the right place. I can retrace the folds in the Veil so you can step through them again."
"I hate you," she breathed. His eyes were old and sad, the crisp light of the morning drawing out every crease, every wrinkle on his age-marked face. "Whatever you did before, I don't care. But for someone who claims to look for repentance… you're just a liar, Solas. Just a fucking liar. The only thing you really want is for things to go your way, and you don't care about anything else than your games. You treat people like pawns. I hate you."
"I wronged you, Hawke. I…" He turned his gaze away, regret filling his features. "I was a coward not to trust you. But you gave me your company, and your warmth and kindness when I was alone on an empty dying world. And perhaps the only thing I can offer you, except my apologies, is… my thanks."
Hawke laughed humourlessly. She closed her hand on Vindr's collar as the mabari began to growl deeply; Solas made a swirling gesture with his hands-
"You know what I can give you? A hope. Just my hope that one day, you'll find someone you will really, actually love. And maybe you'll lie to her too. And then one day you'll tell her the truth about what you are, about what you do to people, and she will say…" She narrowed her eyes. "She will say, 'I hate you.' And you'll be left grieving, alone."
The Veil twisted around her, and the last thing she saw was Solas' face splitting and breaking and an emotion flowing out, a helpless rage and despair and regret and- the Wolf was howling in desperation in the blinding light of the rising morning-
-/-
She was on a beach again. But the air was warm and humid, and the jungle spread behind her back.
The wolf pelt was still on her shoulders, hot and moist in the northern air. Hawke took it off and stared at it with blind, unseeing eyes.
He gave me my magic back. He gave me the sea. He was a friend when I needed one-
-but he lied, and he kept Fenris away from me.
She took a swing and tossed the pelt far beyond the black cliffs of Seheron. The ocean closed over it.
-/-
-/-
-/-
...So thissssssssss.
I have so many feels.
I don't know what to SAY.
SOLAS WHY
[Also, on another IMPORTANT note: may this chapter serve as a friendly reminder that if you find yourself in a sexual situation that you don't entirely feel comfortable with, no matter howinto ityou've gotten, you have every right to stop at ANY GIVEN MOMENT. There is no "too stupid" or "too immature" a reason, and you cannot go "too far" not to be able to stop and retreat. You don't owe your partner anything, and you sure as hell don't owe them a second more of sexual closeness than you feel it's right for you - and if they aren't an asshole, they will instinctually know it - like Solas there. This is an advice that I wish I'd got much earlier in life.]
Now, with that out of the way... i'm out to waddle through the oceans of sadness in Solas' green green eyes as he screws up yet another important thing in his life in his quest for restoring greatness but really just kind of RUINING EVERYTHING
