Solas and Ahrue had resumed their walk northward. She still hadn't said whether she wanted him to take her to Enansal'nan or not. Solas suspected that her decision hinged on their current conversation, depended on how monstrous Fen'harel really was in his true account of the familiar story. He felt the urge to lie, to spin stories for her that would conceal the impact of his actions, that would make him blameless in the disastrous effects he'd had on the world generally, the elves in particular, and Ahrue personally. But, not only was it likely the Vir'abelasan would alert Ahrue to the truth, telling her everything had become important to Solas, even as it was painful, even as he knew he might lose her forever because of it.

So far, Ahrue had been impressively stoic regarding his political history of ancient Elvhenan. Of course it helped that Elgar'nan and Dumat offered easy foils against whom the much younger Fen'haril seemed comparatively reasonable and sympathetic. But his story was approaching the line he'd been dreading, and upon crossing it, motivations and intentions would be overshadowed by the consequences of his acts.

"You know, I've never cared for the story of the Betrayal," Ahrue said lightly. "The Dread Wolf never seemed to have much of a reason for betraying the Forgotten Ones or the Creators." She smiled. "When I was little, my grandfather would tell that story all the time. It was his favorite. He actually told it quite well, with the firelight glowing orange on his face, and his voice low, with all us children gathered around him." Her eyes darted briefly to Solas' face. "He did a Fen'harel voice that I doubt you'd find very flattering, but it got all the clan children going. Then one night, probably the hundredth time I'd heard it, he finished, and I piped up loud enough for everyone to hear, 'Why did Fen'harel lock up the gods?' My grandfather was used to me asking too many questions, just growled sternly 'Ahrue'garastu, it does not matter why he did it. For riches or power? For love or vengeance? Nothing could excuse betraying your people.'"

Solas smiled picturing the young Ahrue from her dream the night before, with disheveled hair and curious eyes standing up, coming to his defense, and insisting in front of her entire clan that Fen'harel must have had a reason to lock away the gods.

She continued to speak with great animation. "Well, I didn't find that answer very satisfying, so I responded, 'But what if he did it because he didn't want the Forgotten Ones and the Creators to fight? Or what if he was just playing a joke, and then he accidentally lost the key?' My grandfather scowled at me. 'Excuses like these are how the Dread Wolf tricks the People into trusting him and doing his bidding. Are you a servant of Fen'harel that you would spin his lies for him?'"

"What did you say to that?" Solas asked brightly.

She shrugged. "I think I stomped off and cried behind a tree. There wasn't a point in arguing with him; he's always been firm on the importance of loyalty and obedience, rules and tradition."

Solas laughed, thinking of how poor a pairing Ahrue and her grandfather must have been. "And you were Ahrue'garastu! Storm Bringer!" he said, translating her full name into the common tongue. "Bringing chaos and uncertainty into his ordered world." Solas had never heard her mention her full name before, but it struck him as fitting.

She laughed. "Almost exactly as he would put it! He would use my full name as a way to remind me when I was bringing trouble or stress to him or the others of the clan." She smirked and put a hand to her abdomen. "If he saw me now, he would shake his head and say, 'So, Ahrue'garastu returns, at last. And with a little storm in tow, no less.'"

She smiled through it, but Solas could see in her eyes and her tensed shoulders that her full name spoken by her grandfather carried a judgment with it that hurt her. It was likely why she had shed the second half; "Ahrue" by itself did not carry the same connotations for her as the full name. Solas understood the power of names very well. He also knew this was about more than a name. In some ways her involvement with Solas had confirmed her grandfather's opinion of her, and her pregnancy stood as testament to that. "Do you believe your people would reject you for baring a child outside of the bonding?"

She snorted. "Shun me? Probably. And, I believe that if they knew that you—that Fen'harel—was the father, I would be lucky if they even waited for the child to be born before dashing its head on the stones. But most likely they would probably just run me through and be rid of us both in a single thrust."

Solas' blood went cold and he stood frozen in place. She'd said the words with total frankness. She believed it, believed that her people would slaughter her and their child if they knew the truth of who Solas was. "Ahrue," he said, not knowing how to respond.

She had walked a little past him, but she stopped and turned at his pained call to her. "Don't worry," she said sadly. "They'll never get the opportunity." She resumed walking, and Solas followed. "However, you should give some thought concerning what we'll tell clan Sabrae. Things might go smoother if I tell them that my bondmate is recently dead and that you're just a traveling companion."

He tensed at her suggestion. "Couldn't you just claim that I am your husband? That would be a simpler lie, and nearer the truth."

She shook her head. "You don't wear vallaslin which means that we didn't wed according to Dalish tradition. And claiming that we were married by the Chantry would be taken as an abdication of my heritage, thus weakening my claim to Vir Sulevanin."

He knew she was right, but thinking of an imaginary husband for Ahrue, even a dead one, bothered Solas. "Whatever you think is best. You know the Dalish better than I," he said with an edge of irritation in his voice.

She laughed. "If it bothers you, I could always give you vallaslin. You can erase them with magic afterward."

Solas bristled. "It bothers me that this charade is even necessary!" he said, surprising even himself with his anger. "It bothers me that your own people would shun you for daring to step outside the bounds of 'ancient' traditions that they invented or kill you for the sake of foolish superstitions based on stories that they don't even understand!"

She whirled on him. "And what do you expect me to do about it, Solas?" she shouted. "Arlathan is gone, the Elvhen are gone, and these foolish superstitions, poorly understood stories, and invented traditions are the only things that hold the Dalish together! So of course they hold onto them, of course the defend them, and of course they see you and me as a threat."

He realized that she had taken his anger as being directed at her instead of in defense of her. He focused on calming his voice. "Ir abelas. I do not expect you to do anything to change the Dalish. There is much I admire about your people, you particularly. You are the best of them. That they should treat you like you are…" he felt his anger rising again and decided to stop before he would say something else he may regret. He put his hands up to signal that he would say no more.

The rage in Ahrue's face and body faded to irritation. "Fine," she said heavily and resumed walking northward. Solas took several long strides to close the distance between them and take his place walking by her side. She glanced at him furtively. "Was it worth it?" she asked softly.

He looked, waiting for elaboration.

"I understand why you locked away the Seven and the Uth'elgar'vhen. You were one man against fourteen power-mad, fade-addled demi-gods who were waging a brutal and bloody war over one dead woman. Your people were suffering and dying. The rebels praying at the Fen'haril statue in the Emerald Graves, they were desperate for you to end the first of the Forgotten Wars, and I imagine similar prayers were said to your statues across Elvhenan by people who believed that only you among their gods still cared for their lives and wellbeing. So you did what you felt you had to. But was it worth it?" Her eyes were wide and sad.

Her question struck at the oldest and deepest wound of his life. He shook his head solemnly. "I do not know."

She nodded with matched gravity. "Tell me what happened."

"I created the sanctum, or the Eternal City, as you know it."

"Creators," she mumbled and ran her fingers through her hair. Solas knew it was a lot to process, hearing the myths she'd grown up with retold by the villain. Just as it was easier for her to think of him as a simple rebel, it was less jarring to imagine the Sanctum as just a cage in the fade rather than the fabled Eternal City. He waited to give her whatever time she needed to let his words settle in. "Keep going," she said wearily.

"As a somniari, I was able to construct the Sanctum easily in my dreams, and when awake, I could use the orb to access it physically." Solas felt a swell of pride recalling the domed ceiling, glittering with metallic mosaic tiles, the fresco adorning the walls of the chamber in bold colors, and the intricate Uthenera beds he'd shaped to honor each of the Elgar'vhen. Some of his finest work. It was a resting place fit for gods, destined to house far lesser beings. "Making the sanctum was not difficult, and the Seven had already created the Abyss themselves, so there was not need to construct a second chamber. Sealing fourteen paranoid and violent mages in their respective prisons, however, was not a simple task. My greatest challenge was to create a seal so neither spirits nor mortals could enter or exit the sanctum except with the orbs. In all my journeys of the fade, my studies in the waking world, and my conversations with spirits, there was only one form of magic that I could trust to contain the Seven and the Elgar'vhen safely: a soul seal."

Ahrue stiffened at his words. "I know what that is," she said darkly, making Solas' stomach tighten. "Soul magic was like blood magic, only it drew on soul essence for power instead of the physical body. Like the ritual of transference." She looked at Solas, face twisted with disgust and disbelief. "You actually used a living soul to generate the cage around the Eternal City? You killed someone to create your prison?"

Solas felt his skin heat at her judgment. "I… killed two. One to seal the abyss, and one to seal the sanctum. However, if it makes any difference, they were willing. I recruited two former rebels—Erani and Malaal—who had taken the eternal sleep of Uthenera in what is now called Sundermount. They had chosen to leave the waking world because of what the Elgar'vhen had made of it." His face fell with the memory. "And I had failed the rebels too often for hope alone to sustain them. But when I told Erani and Malaal in their dreams of my plan, they agreed to let me take their souls if it would keep the Elgar'vhen from harming the people any longer." He swallowed the feelings of shame that rose in his throat. "They put their trust in me."

Ahrue's expression softened some, but he could see that she was still repelled by his use of Erani and Malaal as sacrifices. She had likely already begun to sense that the cost of his actions exceeded those two lives by far.

"I took their souls into my being, leaving their bodies as empty husks, and I used my orb to bring me first to the Abyss and then to the sanctum. All of the Seven and the Elgar'vhen were waging war in the waking world, so no one would notice as I cast my spells and used the souls of my friends to power barriers strong enough to contain gods and suppress the somniari magic."

Her brow furrowed. "You sealed the Abyss and the Sanctum before the gods were inside?"

"Yes. The orbs would be used to travel directly within the barriers. Once there, the sleep charm I had set would trigger, and I could collect the orbs from their slumbering bodies, using my orb to depart, leaving the Seven and the Elgar'vhen to slumber eternally."

"If they would be sleeping forever, why take the orbs?"

He smiled, appreciating the curious and skeptical probing her mind tended toward. "It was a failsafe. I theorized that the fade would sustain my sleep charm indefinitely. But if that were not the case, if the charm should eventually dissipate, or if one of my… prisoners managed to break the hold it had over them, I wanted to be sure that no one could escape."

Ahrue grimaced slightly. "So how did Fen'harel really tricks his friends and kin into his traps? How do you bait a god?" she said in a tone laced with barbs.

He sighed. "The Seven were easily fooled. They had long been attempting to lure me to betray my kin, making promises that if I helped them take Arlathan and eliminate the Elgar'vhen, they would give me power over whatever remained of the cowed Elvhen Empire. They were eager to believe me when I went to them prepared to betray the Uth'elgar'vhen. I told them of a plan to ensure their and my victory over my kin: I would lure the Elgar'vhen to the fade by telling them that spirits had whispered secrets to me of a great weapon that could destroy the human forces in days. The Seven need only return to their own place in the fade to await my signal and ambush the Elgar'vhen. In the fade, Elgar'nan and the others would have less power than the somniari, and would be easily bested by us.

"I returned with them to the Abyss, presumably to plan our strategy of attack. As soon as we stepped through the rift into the golden halls of their palace, the charm triggered, and they fell asleep." Solas frowned, remembering each of the Seven suddenly slumping to the ground while he'd stood numbly frozen by the gravity of his betrayal. "I carried each of them to their beds, took their orbs, and left."

Ahrue tilted her head searching his face. "It bothered you, didn't it? Fooling them that way?"

He nodded. "Despite their flaws, despite what they had become, they were my friends. I pitied them, but the war could not be permitted to continue, and the fade had twisted them into monstrous versions of their former selves."

"How did you convince the others?" she asked gently.

"I showed them the orbs, told them that I had trapped the Seven in the fade, but we had to act quickly before they broke away from their cage. I told them I would take them all to the place the Seven were trapped and they could either kill them or agree to a peaceful solution; I no longer cared as long as the war was done."

"And they believed you because you'd been vocally opposed to the wars from the beginning and had previously threatened to kill Elgar'nan and Elgara to end their civil war," Ahrue surmised.

"Quite so. I took them to the sanctum. They fell asleep, I carried them to their beds, I took their orbs, and I left."

Ahrue held her silence for a while, perhaps out of respect for the Creator's, perhaps mourning their fate, or perhaps just as a kindness to Solas, respecting grief and shame. The sun was approaching its zenith when she spoke again. "What did you do with orbs?"

"I shattered them," he said softly. "I even found Mythal's orb placed upon her corpse in her burial chamber, and I destroyed it. I kept my own intact of course… and there was another." Solas narrowed his eyes. "Dirthamen had not had his orb with him in the fade. Everyone had entered the Sanctum through the rift I opened, so he hadn't needed it. I spent… a long time searching for that orb. But after the humans laid waste to Elvhenan, I gave up any hope of recovering it."

Ahrue grabbed him by the arm, pulling him to a stop, her eyes wide and fearful. "Solas! You're saying another of those orbs is out there somewhere?"

He smiled weakly at the fact that her greatest fear was his greatest hope. "It is unlikely. Chances are it was destroyed when Elvhenan fell. But it is possible that the orb is still intact. If someone has it, they do not know its power, and few could summon the strength required to use it."

"But Corypheus did! What if others like him still exist? They could find the last orb. Corypheus was able to find yours, after all." Her face was fervent. Solas could see her horror at the thought of a breach tearing the sky again, of the dark future she had so recently bled, sweated, and killed to prevent, coming to pass by the hands and will of another monstrous creature like Corypheus.

Solas looked away. She'd left him an opening, a chance to lie about how Corypheus obtained the orb and be believed. It would not exonerate him of all his crimes, but of all his mistakes, he feared this would be the one she'd be least likely to understand. It was tempting beyond measure to just say, when I awoke, the orb was gone. I tracked it to Haven, but I was too late to prevent its use. All I could do was offer my aid to the Inquisition in closing the breach. She would believe him. Really, the lie was more plausible than the truth. And it would be better for both of them if he just said the words.

No, he corrected himself, not better. Easier. Solas found his resolve in the firmness of her grasp around his arm. She held onto him tightly, desperate for Solas to convince her that the other orb would not be found as Corypheus had found his. Solas shook his head slowly, knowing she would soon release his arm and step away from him, in horror or disbelief. He forced himself to speak, his voice wavering: "Corypheus did not find my orb. I gave it to him."