Author's Note: Welcome! I finally got around to playing Inquisition and am still not quite emotionally recovered; hence, this story. Before proceeding, I would like to warn you that there are major spoilers related to the Trespasser DLC. If you are reading this after Dragon Age 4 eventually comes out (pleeeeease be soon and be good), this obviously isn't going to consider those events, as they are currently unknown other than bits and pieces. I don't know how far this story will go, but we'll see. If you would like to potentially beta-read future chapters, I would welcome the assistance.

Key choices made: As you probably gathered from the description, the Inquisitor is a Dalish elf who romanced Solas; the Inquisition is disbanded; Cassandra is Divine; Lavellan is on good terms with all of her previous companions; and she chose to try redeeming Solas at the end of Trespasser.

With that, please enjoy!

Nightmares of Green Fire

Lavellan sometimes came awake from dreams in which her lover watched her sadly from across an endless distance. If they were more than simple dreams she could not say, for every time she reached for him, he vanished into nothing. Still she searched, and dreamed, and waited, for a way to change the Dread Wolf's heart.

The months following the dissolution of the Inquisition were difficult, to say the least. Inara Lavellan had gone to the Exalted Council with the full intention of securing her organization's future, for the sake of all of Thedas. After discovering the Qunari plot and the leak from inside her own forces, however, her faith was shaken. Then she had found out that he was part of the chaos unfolding, and all worries of the Council were extinguished.

Cassandra hadn't approved of her desperation to save their old friend from the Qunari. She kept trying to bring Inara's focus back to the mission – and the fact that her Mark was slowly killing her even as they fought the endless number of enemies. She appreciated her friends' support, but all she could think was: I have to save him. It didn't seem to matter anymore that he had abandoned them – abandoned her. Two years ago, as victory over Corypheus grew closer, none of her visions of the future had pictured this as her reality: her lover gone, the Inquisition rotting from the inside, and her friends following new paths. But here they were. After that, the Inquisition as it was could not stand.

Nearly half a year had passed since the events of the Exalted Council. A handful of close cohorts had remained with the Inquisitor at Skyhold, including Leliana. Together, they continued to gather intelligence for the inevitable conflict, intending to gather new allies not known by their target. Chaos was breaking out in Tevinter with the abrupt attacks by the Q'un, but they waited for something far more terrible to rise: The Dread Wolf.

So here she was again – standing over stinking piles of her fallen comrades on an endless battlefield. A dream she had revisted on a number of occasions.

The gaping emerald hole in the sky crackled ominously. Inara fell to her knees in agony as her Mark flared to life, sapping away at her soul. But when she moved to grab her tortured limb, there was nothing but empty space below her elbow. Instead, even as she watched in horror, the electric tendrils of the Mark latched onto what was left of her arm. The hole in the sky pulsed, triggering the Mark's energy to spread to her other hand – her legs – her chest! Soon, there wasn't a single part of her that wasn't being consumed. She screamed in terror and fell into shadow.

With a gasp, the elf found herself nowhere near the battlefield. The nightmare seemed to have given way to much more pleasant dreams, which only made her suspicious. She didn't often have good dreams anymore. The bland emptiness from the first few months where she had reached out to a watching Solas, only to have him disappear, had slowly been replaced by chaos. She had broken the serene surface of her visions to find…madness.

The new scene was a moss-carpeted forest, quiet and peaceful. Gazing down, Inara noted that she was wearing the light armor of her Dalish clan, and she herself was perfectly intact – no Mark, no terrible scars, no deformities. Curious, she walked to the nearby stream to view her reflection. Familiar branches of soft blue decorated her forehead. She frowned at the vallaslin, the symbol of her people that she once had considered a badge of honor before…before. In the waking world, she no longer bore that symbol.

Lavellan allowed her eyes to wander the uncommonly kind environment – the babbling brook, the towering trees, her own gloved fingers, everything. She frowned again. So much had changed since the days when she was simply a misfit young Dalish hunter. She had been thrown into this much larger world and subjected to decisions that she previously would never have dreamed of making. It was only through the support of her comrades and friends that she was able to persevere. They were her family, and now most were gone. Sometimes she considered taking Varric's offer of moving to his city in the Free Marches, but duty prevented it.

And, just like that, her suspicions were met.

The forest darkened with a crackle of green lightning. The wind howled, sheets of rain fell from the sky, and the previously welcoming trees were now nothing but leering shadows. Overcome by cold, Inara knelt down on the soaked moss, hugging herself with her right arm for warmth; her left forearm was gone again. The elf's crimson hair had fallen out of its braid, desperately whipping around her delicate features. Another lightning strike revealed at least a dozen glowing eyes; a third strike exposed the owners of those eyes.

Buffeted by the unforgiving wind, Inara was unable to find the strength to do anything but stagger to her feet as the wolves began to circle.

"Ir abelas, ma vhenan."

Despite the howling wind, that voice had reached her ears with perfect, rich clarity. A shock of longing surged through the woman's veins, giving her the strength to look up. Ahead, past the hungry wolves, was a rocky hill; at the top was a cave. She knew that voice.

With sudden ferocity, Lavellan unsheathed the double-bladed dagger from her back, twirling the weapon expertly in her intact hand. The animals bared their teeth at her, eyes shimmering red. The Dread Wolf.

Even as she stared into the wild animals' glowing eyes, she felt a warm sense of control spread through her limbs, fear seeping away, and she stepped tentatively toward the first wolf. Ever since that world-changing revelation of the Fen'Harel, to her companions' consistant annoyance, Inara avoided killing wolves wherever she could. And this was her dream. What if…

"Fen'Harel ma ghilana, da'len," she whispered to herself.

With a slow breath, she replaced her weapon in its harness and slowly passed the first of the animals. They continued to bare their teeth, but allowed her to pass through their midst and up the hill. Upon reaching the cave mouth, she looked back to find them gone.

The cave was shrouded in darkness, but she continued forward, confident that she had heard his voice. It wasn't the first time either. As weeks turned into months, nearly every night had aroused her suspicion that she was not alone in her dreams. Most of the time, she simply felt a presence watching her; but when she did see him and reached out, there was nothing. Things had changed. She found herself able to manipulate things more easily in her slumber. The untouchable was potentially within her grasp. Cassandra said she was either crazy or in grave danger. Either was a possibility, but she couldn't risk missing the chance to bring her dearest friend away from brink. He couldn't want to destroy the world; he had to see another way. She had to hope.

After several minutes of walking in the oppressive grey silence, Inara came to a stop on level ground. The silence pressed in on her, but she had to try.

"Solas."

Her hushed call was met by nothingness.

"Ma melava halani. Please come back to me."

Silence.

"Fenedhis lasa!" she cursed. "I know you're there! You can't think that destroying the world will fix everything. We all make decisions we regret, but then we must learn to live with those decisions. Please, answer me!"

Silence.

The Inquisitor finally dropped her head in defeat, wrapping her hand around what remained of her left arm. No one was here for her to put on a brave face. She was tired and alone, still left with the burden of the world's fate on her shoulders with only a fraction of the help. Tears escaped down her cheeks, the crushing weight of guilt and loneliness seeping into her chest as she recalled her last days with Solas at her side. The world felt…empty.

"Please come back to me."

"Ma vhenan," that chilling choice echoed around her. "Awaken."

Inara's eyes opened to find an assassin standing over her bed. She rotated away just in time to miss the sword that plunged into her mattress. With a cry, the elf leapt away from a second blow, grabbing the knife from under her pillow as she flipped to the floor, landing solidly on her feet. The wards Leliana insisted on putting outside all entrances of her quarters would have alerted the guards to the intruder's presence by now. Her choices were to hold out until they arrived, or…

Inquisitor Lavellan smiled slyly and raced to the stairs at the back of her bedchamber, locking the door behind her. While the assassin bashed the barricade, she silently rushed up the stairs to the balcony that pointlessly overlooked her room, securing the narrow hilt of her dagger between her teeth. Just as the cloaked man broke the lock, the rogue gracefully swung down from the balcony with her good arm, landing perfectly with her legs locked around his shoulders. In mirrored motions, she took her blade and plunged it into her attacker's throat, just as he thrust his blade toward her heart.

Reviews are welcome! Again, if there's any interest in beta-reading this, I would love to bounce ideas around regarding lore in addition to the basics.