A/N: I decided to take a bit of a hiatus from this story. But like any writer knows, the urge to write and get it all out always comes back! Chapters will be published as the ideas come. Feels good to be back. Enjoy!

Chapter 12

Valla retreated to her chambers, eager to put as much distance between her and the great hall as possible. Lost in thought, she made her way to the balcony and looked at the courtyard below. The view of Skyhold never failed to impress. The sight of soldiers and workers going about their tasks had always been a comforting sight, a reminder of what made the Inquisition possible. In the organization's beginning Valla had felt limitless, free to bring forth the change Thedas so desperately needed. Now she felt bound, restricted. She struggled to think of how she could fulfill her promise to her clan, now that her forces were unavailable to her. It wasn't long before she heard the sound of faint footsteps behind her. Valla didn't need to look to know who it was. Shoulders hunched, she leaned against the stone railing.

"I suspect you heard my conversation with the Divine, Solas?" she asked.

Solas joined her on the balcony. Arms folded, he stared out over the mountains, "I did," he replied, "It seems Cassandra is trying to appease all sides, even if it means restricting the very organization she helped create."

Valla slouched against the railing even more, "This couldn't have come at a worse time." she said miserably.

"When those in power have no threats to deal with, they begin to look inwards. In times of peace, priorities change and power is consolidated." The nobles scramble to ensure their voices are heard, Solas thought to himself. If their intention was to make an example of the Inquisition, they had played the Game beautifully. And using the Divine as their mouthpiece was a clever tactic, as she was the one person the Inquisitor could not refuse. Solas shared in Valla's frustration. He knew the nobles of Orlais and Ferelden would care little for the elven lives this decision would cost. His voice filled with sympathy as he turned to Valla, "I'm sorry you must face more hardship, vhenan."

"What am I going to do?" she asked.

Solas considered carefully before speaking, "Perhaps you should think of this not as a setback, but as an opportunity."

Curious, Valla straightened up and watched him with anticipation.

"Though I still admire the Inquisition," Solas said, "It has suffered the inevitable fate of powerful organizations. It has become weighed down by bureaucracy and political intrigue. The Chantry seeks to protect its own above others. And though the Inquisition accepts all, it mainly remains a human organization. I wonder how much more it can be of service to our people."

Valla frowned at him, "What are you suggesting, Solas?"

He chose his words carefully, "Perhaps it is time to hand the position of power over to another."

Valla's eyes flew open, "Are you suggesting I step down as Inquisitor?"

Solas kept his voice even, "It is clear the humans will not change. Stepping down would give you the freedom to aid your clan in other ways."

Valla looked at the castle grounds below her. It was hard to imagine a life without the Inquisition. All the battles won and lost and the people she met along the way, the Inquisition was her life and Skyhold, her home. She could scarcely recall her life before she was thrust into this role, and reuniting with her clan reminded her of what she left behind. She couldn't go back to the Dalish. When she learned the truth about her people's past, Valla knew that chapter of her life had closed.

Valla shook her head, "I need to see this through." her voice was firm, "I refuse to step down simply because I didn't get my way."

Solas sighed, trying to mask his disappointment. He couldn't say he was surprised by her answer.

"I still believe the Inquisition is for all." Valla continued, "Soldiers or not, I need to show the humans that our people cannot remain living in the shadows. The plight of the elves cannot be ignored by the rest of Thedas. We will find another way to help them."

Though it wasn't the answer Solas hoped for, it was a respectable one. "I admire your determination, vhenan. You do not flinch in the face of adversity, it only strengthens your resolve." Looking out over the mountains, he found himself quietly laughing.

Valla tilted her head, unsure of what was so amusing.

"You remind me of myself." Solas said, "A thousand years ago had I been in your position, I doubt my response would have been any different."

"I hope you can understand." Valla said, "Walking away from everything I've fought for is no simple thing." She grew quiet, studying her hands neatly folded on the railing, "Though you should know I have considered it."

Her words peaked his interest. Solas could see the weariness in her posture and hear the fatigue in her voice. He was amazed with how well she shouldered her burden, impressed she still had the strength to go on.

"The longer I stay with the Inquisition, the more I see how it is changing." Valla said sadly, "The world is tired of war. The powers that be want to shut their eyes at the problems that still exist. They wish to steer the Inquisition away from them so they never come to light. After meeting with Cassandra it is clear I can no longer control the Inquisition's future." Her sense of determination quickly set in. "But for the sake of our people, I have to try."

How she remained a curiosity, Solas thought to himself. Even in disagreement his admiration for her grew. He could see there would be no swaying her. As one who swore loyalty to no one, Solas could easily cut his ties to the Inquisition. But it was clear Valla's bonds were not so easily broken. Perhaps his long life had made him cynical, perhaps what he saw as a hindrance was in fact something deeper. "Very well." he said, "If you truly wish to see this through, I will remain by your side."

Valla's expression became more contemplative as the stories of Fen'Harel crept into the back of her mind. She thought of how he had the freedom to do as he pleased, how he was able to move freely through their world, bound to no one. Now here he was, choosing to stay because of her decision.

"Solas," Valla said, "If staying with the Inquisition is keeping you from what you want...if you feel I am holding you back-"

Solas shook his head and reached for Valla gently drawing her towards him, "What I want is to remain by your side, and I have kept myself from that long enough." Though Valla avoided his gaze, he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. He tilted her chin upwards, "Come what may, there is nowhere else in this world I would rather be."

Though her sadness lingered, Solas saw a glimmer of hope return as Valla smiled, relief filling her voice. "Thank you, Solas."

He turned to take his leave, "In the meantime, I will search for ways to counter the magic being used against us." As he turned away he felt Valla's hand catch his arm. And as he looked back at her, for a moment his mind flashed back to that one similar moment. The moment he realized the thought of losing her was unbearable, that walking away from what they had would only hurt them both. It was the moment he said the words he thought he would never say again. Ar lath, ma vhenan.

How much had changed since that day, Solas thought to himself. How much had she changed. The hand that held him now made of metal, the final price she payed to spare the world from his mistakes. Her face now free of the markings that would have branded her a slave, at the time the only gift he had to offer her. The world, as well as Valla, were changed forever. Both forever altered, and yet they remained. Valla's eyes, the color of storms, met his. Unlike that moment years ago, this time she did not have to ask him to stay. Without a word, Solas returned her embrace. And unlike that moment years ago, this time it was more than a kiss they shared.

Whether it was loyalty or obligation that held her to the Inquisition, he respected Valla's decision. He swore no loyalty but to her.

Later that evening Solas made his way to the library, presuming the man he needed to answer his questions would be there. As much as Solas hated to admit it, he needed guidance. As he steeled himself for what he expected to be a fiery exchange of words, he found Dorian lounging in an armchair, thumbing through the pages of an old text.

"You look like a cat that just got into the cream." Dorian smiled wryly, glancing up from his book, "I'll let you put the meaning behind that metaphor on your own."

Solas glared at him, refusing to dignify his comment with a response.

"Anyway, Iron Bull tells me you are in need advice on the finer points of blood magic." Dorian continued to smirk, "And your first thoughts were to come to me? To ask the Tevinter? Oh, certainly he must know. I thought you were above such stereotypes, Solas."

Solas rolled his eyes, "I wouldn't ask for your help unless it were my only option, believe me."

"How flattering." Dorian muttered coldly. He closed his book with a snap and rose from his chair, "I find it amusing that once again you think I am the answer to your problems. And I find it even more amusing that you think I have any inclination to help you after what you've done."

Solas frowned, unsure of what he meant, "If I have done something to offend -"

Dorian laughed in disbelief, "Don't tell me you've forgotten! Sending your people to my home, attacking and dragging me unconscious through the mountains and holding me prisoner. Does that ring a bell?"

Solas cringed at his own ignorance. With everything that happened since his failed plans in Tevinter, he'd forgotten about what he had done to Dorian. Solas realized that of all people, Dorian had the most right to hold a grudge against him. His voice grew quiet, "You are referring to my actions in your homeland."

"Yes." Dorian said, "Which I would be willing to forgive if you had made even the slightest acknowledgment that you were wrong."

Solas of course knew he had been wrong, but pride got the better of him, "Is that not all I have done since my return to Skyhold? Have I not tried to prove that I am worthy of the Inquisition's trust?"

"To the others, yes." Dorian replied, "But you didn't hold any of them against their will now did you?"

Solas was quickly losing patience, "There are more important matters at stake than arguing over the past."

"Indeed!" Dorian agreed, "There is a crazed group of cultists after you and those you hold dear, and I hold the one piece of information that may help you stop them. I will gladly share what I know, but first we must resolve our unfinished business. For the sake of Valla and your daughter, I suggest you swallow your pride and say what you and I both know needs to be said."

Solas stared daggers at him. He knew Dorian deserved an apology, but his way of prying it out of him was infuriating. Solas knew this conversation would go nowhere unless he played along. He glowered, mulling it over as Dorian waited with a patient smile.

Finally, Solas relented, "Next to Valla, you suffered the most at the expense of my...endeavors." he said reluctantly, "I am fully aware of this. You took a great risk allowing the Inquisition into Tevinter, Dorian. You put your political career as well as your life on the line, and it was a risk I took advantage of. I used someone I once called a friend for my own ambitions, and I do not expect your forgiveness." His voice filled with regret, "In truth, I do not forgive myself."

Dorian's witty smile diminished as Solas spoke. He expected his apology to be halfhearted and forced, but he could clearly hear the sincerity behind his words. Dorian detested confrontations, yet he had unknowingly created one. He expected more of a fight from the elf. His earnest emotions and feelings were making him uncomfortable.

"That's not how you were supposed to do it!" Dorian groaned, "You were just supposed to say, "Dorian, I'm sorry I kidnapped you." then I would have said, "Apology accepted!" You weren't supposed to actually feel sorry!"

Solas gaped at him, unsure if he was being serious. "Excuse me?"

"How am I supposed to feel like I was in the right when you actually feel guilty?"

Solas watched quizzically as Dorian became more exasperated, "I'm sorry if my apology was too sincere for you."

"You're still not helping." Dorian sighed.

Solas chuckled, finding his discomfort amusing, "I thought an apology was what you wanted."

Dorian threw up his hands in defeat, "It's fine. I accept. Whatever." He turned his back to Solas and strode to a bookcase, "Now in regards to your blood magic problem," he pulled a book from its shelf and began leafing through it, eager to put the sappy moment behind him. "There." He found the page he needed and tossed the book on table next to Solas who eyed it apprehensively. It was written in the language of the Imperium.

"You must forgive me," Solas grinned, "My knowledge of the Tevinter language is rudimentary at best."

Dorian let out another dramatic sigh, "It's a text explaining the versatility of magical barriers, so I'm sure you are already familiar with most of it." He pointed to a specific paragraph, "However, this passage goes into the details of how barriers relate to blood magic. Since it is the one type of magic that does not rely on the Fade, it is know to behave differently."

"I already know this, Dorian." Solas replied.

"To the point then," Dorian said as he picked up the book, "The solution is rather simple. As you know, normal barriers that rely on the Fade can easily withstand both magical and physical attacks, but are easily broken. According to this text, a blood magic barrier strong enough the withstand incredibly powerful mages will only be strong enough to do only that, block magic. But it will only be able to withstand magical attacks, not physical."

Solas frowned as he put the pieces together, "So the cultists created barriers that they knew would render our magic useless."

"Precisely," Dorian nodded, "Knowing that you and Valla are both mages, they took precautionary measures."

Solas quietly considered his options, "But you are saying these barriers are weak to physical attacks?"

"Not only that," Dorian replied, "But if I am correct – and let's admit I usually am – a soldier armed with the most common of weapons should easily be able to walk right through the barrier itself. In the realm of the physical, the magic of these cultists should count for little."

It was a simple solution, Solas thought - one he was surprised he failed to notice. The Hand of Anaris had done everything in their power to keep enemy magic at bay at the cost of leaving themselves exposed in such an obvious fashion. They were expecting mages, not soldiers.

Dorian closed his book triumphantly, "What you need, my friend, is an army."

And an army was the one thing they no longer had.