Chapter 16
Solas grew more contrarian as the annual gathering of the Association of Mage & Medical Professionals (AMMP) went on. He had initially been asked to be the keynote speaker several months prior, but like all similar offers, he had turned it down. He hated conferences, finding the whole process of presenting his research tedious. The panel discussions were rarely compelling, as his colleagues generally appeared more concerned with grandstanding than any genuine quest for knowledge.
When did I become so jaded? He wondered to himself as he headed back to his hotel room, scanning the keycard, and flopping down on the bed. He didn't even bother to take off his shoes so heavy was his ennui.
As with most conferences he attended, all any mage wished to discuss were methods to preserve their declining strength. Solas was equally concerned with the dilemma, but after witnessing first-hand the destruction of such a desire, he wasn't keen to attempt any of the desperate measures to try and rectify the situation. Over the last few days, he had been asked about what he thought might be done, given that his research addressed how the brain transmitted and responded to the Fade, but all his answers were holistic.
A hard truth for professionals driven by data and statistics.
He had stopped trying to explain that understanding the relationship the brain had to the Fade was more heuristic than clinical. It wasn't, despite the skepticism of his peers, that magic had specific neural correlates. He was certain that procedures-such as one he had seen proposed that morning to optimize the sympathetic nervous system with a permanent lyrium shunt-would improve the connection. He suspected, after years of study, that the Fade suffused the brain, and that individual brains adopted over time. Patterns emerged, yes, but that framework explained to him why the pathologies of mage-driven illnesses or complications were never the same.
It was a dialogic response between the brain and the Fade. Both were necessary and changed over time.
His ability to look at each case individually and innovate solutions were what made him the go-to doctor for the unsolvable cases. However, it earned him very little warmth from other professionals working in the medical field. He understood that he often had a reputation as a distant and sometimes caustic medical professional, more obsessed with "philosophy than science."
He had great compassion towards his patients, even if his bedside manner was a little cerebral. It was the other doctors that he was short with; those unable to balance the abstract and the concrete.
Why was he here again? He asked himself, staring up at the ceiling, looking at the film of dust that had collected on the ceiling fan. It had been a miserable four days.
Leliana had forced him to go last-minute. Sipping on a glass of red wine at his dining room table, she had visited to give him an in-person briefing and ask that he might attend: "It would be ideal for you to meet with a Tevinter magister, Gereon Alexius,."
"What is this one guilty of?" He had asked with a groan. He was getting too burnt out for this game.
"It appears he has figured out how to use magic, at least theoretically, to turn back time."
"To locate the orb?"
"Or whatever the highest bidder might want."
"So, you are asking me to…"
"Befriend him and see what happens."
And so he had.
Solas had attended the magister's panel discussion on the theoretical mapping of magic as a physical body. He had lingered to ask how Alexis' research might inform the use of an MRI machine on a mage (an answer he had already studied). The man had been so flattered that the preeminent Professor Solas Fen'Harel wanted to learn more about his experiments that he had instantly asked to make plans to get drinks and compare research notes that very evening.
"This is why we still need you to be a part of the Inquisition," Leliana had told him over the phone when he called to update her. Solas was not convinced he had much left to offer. He agreed his participation was impactful, but his thoughts were in Val Royeaux. Over the last few weeks, he and Ellana had struck up a text conversation that occupied most of his attention.
Her initial message a few days after the attack had taken him by surprise.
xxx-xxx-3245, 7:00 p.m.
Thank you again for yesterday, Professor.
xxx-xxx-3245, 7:01 p.m.
This is Ellana Lavellan
xxx-xxx-3454, 7:11 p.m.
No thanks are necessary.-S
Solas couldn't help sending a follow-up message an hour later. The act had made him nervous, as he lacked any fluency in the medium. Ellana was at least a decade younger, and the lack of eloquence he was able to convey in the text must have been glaring to her.
xxx-xxx-3454, 8:15 p.m.
Do you need anything, lethallan ?-S
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 8:27 p.m.
No, I'm staying with Dorian & Bull for a few days.
Solas suspected that the couple had to coerce her into such an arrangement, given how stubborn Ellana reacted well to everything. Nor would he remind her that he had suggested such an arrangement. Several times.
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 8:27 p.m.
I just didn't want you to think your good work was undone
xxx-xxx-3454, 8:35 p.m.
Thank you, that was considerate.-S
He had forced himself not to overthink the exchange. The messages Ellana sent him were a mere courtesy. At the very most, a gesture of friendship.
The following week, Solas showed up to his office and discovered a box wrapped in heavy emerald paper and a black ribbon placed in the center of his desk. Picking up the package, he picked up the attached card, his full name written in a beautiful script in a perfectly straight line. Curiously, he opened the envelope finding a brief note, written in a similar polished hand, that read:
Solas,
Words cannot express my gratitude. Dagna said these were your favorite.
Warmly,
Ellana
Unwrapping the package, he found a dozen elaborately decorated cupcakes, with what Orlesians called "frilly" buttercream icing, made to resemble peonies or some other type of flower. Solas had snapped a picture of his graduate students in lab coats awkwardly sharing the contents and sent it to Ellana. A few hours later, he had chuckled at her response
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 7:28 p.mI'm glad you enjoyed them. Thank you again.
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 7:30 p.m.
p.s. I can tell you took the photo yourself since it is blurry.
Solas had thought better of responding, but couldn't resist what he thought was an opportunity to build more goodwill between the two of them. That, and he found he rather enjoyed what he was interpreting as her teasing.
xxx-xxx-3454, 7:45 p.m.You underestimate me. Clearly. .-S
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 7:48 p.m.& yet you sign all your text messages?
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan., 7:50 p.m.How ancient are you?
xxx-xxx-3454, 7:45 p.m., 7:52 p.m.I am 41
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan., 7:58 p.m.That was a rhetorical question
xxx-xxx-3454, 7:45 p.m., 8:01 p.m.Well, now, you have an answer.
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 8:08 p.m.
& now you know better than to sign your texts.
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 8:10 p.m.
Trust me. It will impress your grad students.
Solas wanted to write, "You are the one I want to impress," only he restrained himself. Although he hadn't been interested in a woman for a long time, but he knew that such obsequious phrases usually had a chilling effect. Was she flirting? Unlikely. Especially as he had just admitted his age. No doubt, she had instantly calculated the years of their age difference upon learning the number.
As the next few weeks went on, Solas was, no exaggeration, ecstatic as their conversations continued. He was also surprised at how easy it was. Ellana was witty and never ceased to bring a smile to his lips.
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 10:00 a.m.
I've put together the agenda for our next meeting
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 10:04 a.m.
We'll need to talk about medical imagery.
xxx-xxx-3454, 9:00 p.m.
Sorry to miss this, I was with patients all day.
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 9:10 p.m.
I'll send the list to Dagna as undoubtedly she oversees your side hustles
xxx-xxx-3454, 9:15 p.m.
Can you clarify what you mean by "side hustle."
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 9:20 p.m.
Goodness!
On another day, Solas had initiated the messaging. Sometimes finding an excuse to send her a text.
xxx-xxx-3454, 8:00 p.m.
Did you need me to make arrangements to tour the lab?
xxx-xxx-3454, 8:01 p.m
I'll be at the hospital most of the week, but students would be happy to
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 9:20 p.m.
Yes, thank you.
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 9:25 p.m.
Please also remind me to send flowers to my thesis advisor
xxx-xxx-3454, 9:28 p.m.
If you like. Why?
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 9:31 p.m.
Her abuse of my labor was much more tolerable ;)
xxx-xxx-3454, 9:35 p.m.
Pish posh.
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 9:39 p.m.
Piss pot?
Gradually, the banter grew more friendly. He was surprised when he opened his phone a few mornings later to an image of Ellana's manicured hand holding a frothy latte in one of the University gardens.
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 7:30 a.m.
I owe you a coffee if I recall correctly. R u campus?
xxx-xxx-3454, 7:35 a.m.
I am waiting to board a plane, check your email.
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 7:45 a.m. :(! Oh well.
Solas had never found an emoji so poetic. Although their banter had grown more familiar and friendly, something about the distance between the two of them made the conversation reach a frenetic pace. For the entire week of the conference, Solas was guaranteed a response whenever he pulled his phone out of his pocket.
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 2:00 p.m.
Did you land safely, Professor?
xxx-xxx-3454, 5:00 p.m.
Now who is the hahren?
xxx-xxx-3454, 7:00 p.m.
How are the bruises? Did Morrigan have any updates?
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 8:00 p.m.
omg, I'm fine...
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 1:00 p.m.
Is it too early for wine?
Xxx-xxx-3454, 2:45 p.m.
That bad?
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 3:00 p.m.So many no shows for office hours!
Solas scrolled through the texts they had shared throughout that Saturday. Stopping at a recent picture, Ellana had sent him in a crafting aisle surrounded by a sea of plastic yellow flowers. It was clear that Dorian had helped stage the snapshot, the art historian wore large cat-eye sunglasses, her arms outstretched in a theatrical pose, with the photo cropped at precisely the right angle to make it appear as if Ellana was floating on the blooms.
She was so beautiful.
Tracing the image with his thumb, Solas admired the way the vallaslin branches stretched over Ellana's pronounced cheekbones, her blonde hair in wild waves around her shoulders. He marveled at the slight smile on her lips and how perfect it was.
Solas could finally admit it to himself: he had feelings for Ellana Lavellan. The recent exchange between the two of them made him hopeful that the attraction was mutual.
The buzz of his calendar alerts interrupted him, signaling that he had ten minutes to rouse himself and make it downstairs to have a drink with Gereon Alexius. Reluctantly, he sat up, tucking his phone away into the breast pocket of his blazer. Rubbing his hands over the stubble of his shaved head, he walked out the door of his hotel room, downstairs to the lobby bar.
Solas was surprised to see no sign of the magister when he arrived, so he sat at the bar, ordering a pour of merlot from the passing bartender. Looking at his watch, as time passed by, He wondered if he might have been stood up. Taking out his phone, he snapped a photograph of the bar and his wine.
xxx-xxx-3454, 7:30 p.m.
Perhaps we can share a glass when I return?
Solas was surprised when to receive a response right away.
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 7:31 p.m.I thought you'd never ask
Hearing his name called out from the hostess stand, Solas turned to see the grizzled face of Gereon Alexius. Tucking his phone reluctantly away, Solas did his best to push Ellana's face out of his mind, trying to recall all of the facts that Leliana had relayed to him to bait the mage into revealing his secret project. After all, success was necessary.
It had never been harder for Solas to separate his two lives: the one where he was a healer and Professor, and the other where he was a liar and a spy.