A/N This chapter's title comes from the song Things Left Unsaid sung by Disciple. Thank you so much for reading. Please read, review, and let me know what you think!

Darkness. Everything around her was pitch black, no color, no light. It floated around her, cradling her like a mother clutching her newborn babe. It was warm, comfortable, filled with a peace that danced around her like leaves in the wind. Swirling around her, lifting multiple different strands of her hair, flirting with the sleeves of the sweater she wore. It consumed her. It was her.

Bright hues of blue and green flashed before her, opening the darkness to a familiar scene. Five groups of four wooden-topped metal desks sat, their fronts all turned inward to make a table. Then there was the one desk that stood apart from the rest. Her desk. The desk she had moved closer to and away from Solas's desk. In that desk - today it was turned and pushed right up against the front of his desk - sat an all-too-familiar version of herself. Her hair was ash-white up to the smallest hint of the darker brown roots she tried to keep covered. Solas sat across from her, a half-eaten ham sandwich and bottle of tea between them. He was looking at her, a pleasant light illuminating his eyes, a genuine smile lifting the corners of his mouth. The other, older yet younger, version of her laughed at whatever he had said. She didn't need to hear to know they were quizzing each other on underappreciated art and literature. Solas had just joked with her, telling her she could start teaching class from now on, being as she knew so much. She had been roughing an outline for the portrait she drew for his birthday. His smile soon evaporated, as did her laughter and they settled back into their appropriate roles. Even then, there had been walls between them.

A sudden intensity flooded her vision, this time the colors being white and red. A dimly-lit room spread out before her, a red cup sloshing with a yellow-orange liquid in the older version of her's shaking hands. Second-hand raggedy couches were the only thing that stood between this version of her and Justice. She immediately shied away from the scene playing out before her. She didn't want to look at the not so old version of her dancing in Anders and Justice's living room. She didn't want to see where this led to again. She didn't want to feel the pain, the guilt, the loneliness. She wanted to escape all of that, wasn't that the point? Hadn't that been why she had done what she had? Left behind any chance of feeling cared for as she was in that one moment of blissful happiness she'd had at the dance? To never again suffer the agony she had when she finally realized that she didn't matter to anyone.

Turning with exasperation she sprinted away from the memories playing out before her. She willed her feet to carry her forward, to any place that wasn't that dorm room. A soft green light, meager yet full of comfort enveloped her. It calmed her racing heart, guiding her away from the torment she didn't want to remember. Before her now was the images of Solas and herself admiring Van Gogh's sunflowers. Contented smiles were on their faces, their hands so close together they were almost touching. Elyssa remembered that day. The electricity and warmth that seemed to radiate from Solas. The laughter and knowledge they had shared. Solas hadn't treated her as merely a student, but rather an equal. It had been that day her walls had started to truly crumble.

The light turned a darker green hue, pulling her towards another scene, another memory. This time she stood outside a darkened classroom staring intensely at Solas. The blue shirt he wore tucked into black slacks hugged the firmness of his thighs. Desire dominated his eyes, turning them from a bright blue to a stormy grey. She had been drawn to those eyes, to the desire that matched her own. She had invited him to her with her body and words. In that brief period, they were together, she had never felt happier, more beautiful, more wanted… Solas had raised her so high. Then with a few words she hadn't meant to speak aloud, she had brought herself crashing down.

"Please," she cried to herself, to the darkness swaddling her, to anything that could hear her. "Please make it stop."

The soft vibration of a familiar baritone sounded in Elyssa's ears. It's poignant sound held so much excruciating pain, so much sorrow. Elyssa didn't have to see the owner of the voice to know that he was crying. It was evident in every syllable, in every word. Solas was crying… for her. Why? He didn't want her. Why was he crying now? "Don't leave me, Elyssa," he begged in a whisper, "I need you. I need you here with me. Please wake up… please don't leave me, vhenan."

Vhenan. He had called her vhenan, his heart. Elyssa's mind swirled with thoughts: confusing, comforting, disturbing. All leading to one thing, one conclusion - this didn't make any sense and therefore must not be real. It couldn't be. Solas had been very clear when he said being with her had been a mistake, that it couldn't happen again. And then she had just seen him with the beautiful, raven-haired woman. Someone who looked to be closer to Solas' age. Someone beautiful enough to be seen next to Solas. Someone who appeared to be worthy of the kind devotion Solas had shown Elyssa. Someone who wasn't broken. Someone who wasn't her…

"I'm so sorry ma vhenan," Elyssa whispered, her voice echoing throughout the darkness that swaddled her, "you don't need me. No one needs me..." Her breath hitched in her throat, refusing to leave her chest, refusing to give her any peace. Glistening wet streams of tears began flowing from her eyes. Her lower lip quivered, trying to hold in the cries and screams she so desperately wished to let go of. Her feet were once again carrying her into the darkness. Her heart pounded with every step, with every echo of her bare feet against a ground she couldn't see. She paid no mind to where she was going. She didn't care, as long as it wasn't where she'd already been. Anywhere, even the memories of Justice were better than the cruel tricks her mind was playing on her now. Away she ran from the lies, from the familiar voice so full of sorrow, so full of heartbreak. Away from the thoughts that she had made a mistake. That she had taken away a chance she could have had at being happy. It was a trick, her mind making her suffer more before finally allowing her to succumb to the ebony darkness she desired to retreat to. Away from the fear, the uncertainty, the hope. Away from everything she knew and loved, from everything that knew and could have loved her…

Painful beats of her heart pounded in Salem's chest. She was staring at a broken man. One somehow more broken than when Andruil had made it her mission to do so. He slumped in the chair next to Elyssa's bed, arms wrapped around himself - holding himself together, staring weakly with dull grey eyes at this girl that had flipped his world upside down. Salem had once thought Solas to be the strongest man she knew, after The Iron Bull, of course. He had hardly shed a tear for the horrendous things Andruil had done. He had broken down, yes, but in an entirely different way. He had buried the pain in meaningless flings and art. Eventually, he had climbed out of the stupor he had been left in, focusing on just his art. He had begun to seem almost happy, content with his life. Now, here he sat, a shell of the man she thought she had known. It terrified her, but she didn't know what to do for him. She didn't know how to keep him from blaming himself like she knew he would if the worst were to happen. She didn't know if he would even survive the depression he was already beginning to fall into if this girl didn't wake up. Salem didn't know much about Elyssa Lavellan, but she knew that she had captured the heart of her friend and broken down walls she never thought would come down.

"Solas?" Salem said softly, approaching slowly. He didn't acknowledge her. "Solas, there is nothing more we can do for her right now. Let's get you home. I promise we will come back," she continued gently.

"I'm not leaving her," he responded flatly, not looking at her, "not again." Salem's heart broke at the sound of his voice. The way he seemed as if he were barely able to get the words out coherently, let alone deliver them with any emotion.

"Solas?" she said with guarded caution, "Can I ask you a question?"

"If you must," he sighed, his eyes never leaving Elyssa.

"Solas, why does she mean so much to you?" She had to ask. She had to know. She needed to understand why her friend had fallen so deeply for someone that had been so off-limits.

"Why wouldn't she?" he answered, "I love her. Don't the people you love mean everything to you? Would you not be sitting here, just as I am, if it were The Iron Bull in this bed? Would you not be spending every waking moment wondering if the one thing that mattered most to you was going to come back or leave you forever?" Solas took a deep breath before leveling the full intensity of his gaze on her. "Is that not what love is Salem? This agony I feel staring at the woman that brightened my world with a simple laugh, lying practically lifeless in a hospital bed. Was it not love I felt every time I saw her smile, saw her laugh, saw joy illuminate that gorgeous face of hers? Was it not love when I felt every tear, every cry, every stab of pain as if it were my own? I wanted what was best for her. I wanted her to be happy. I wanted her to smile, to laugh, to find joy in life where she had only found sorrow. I wanted all of this and more for her. Is that not love?" Every word was delivered with more intensity than the last, his voice finally taking on some modicum of emotion.

"Solas…" Salem was at a loss for words. What could she say to comfort her friend? What was there to say when he had spoken the truth?

The elven man turned his sights back to Elyssa, a sad, soft smile on his face. "She reminded me so much of myself," he murmured, "her art and the way it cried out in a way she couldn't seem to. It was like looking in a mirror in a way." Salem saw the evidence of tears slide down his face, putting cracks in the heart that was already breaking for him. "I tried to help her as if I were in any position to do so. I tried to do my best to make sure she didn't have to feel the torment I had, to suffer day after day without anyone truly understanding what I was going through. Somewhere along the way, I found that she was helping me." A small chuckle, bleak and hollow, escaped his lips. "She was like no one else I had ever met. She was so passionate about art, literature, learning. She was so selfless, so kind, so damned caring that it was so easy to forget that she was supposed to be a student, nothing more. How could I not have fallen for someone who was the very opposite of everything I had known before? Everything good and true where there had only been lies and suffering?" His eyelids drifted closed now, no doubt imagining things that weren't the horrific site of Elyssa lying unmoving in a hospital bed. "The way her smile lit up her entire face; I've never seen anything so beautiful. And her laugh? There was no better music. She spoke with so much wisdom and understanding. She tried so hard to be what everyone wanted her to be, to keep all the negativity from affecting anyone else. She had so much courage, opening herself up to me, letting down the walls I refused to. I shouldn't have been such a selfish, prideful fool," Solas growled, "and maybe then I would be able to say this all to her. "

Salem sighed, "Solas, you need to go home." She was met with narrowed eyes. "I understand you care about her a great deal," she explained, "but you won't be of any use to her if she wakes up and sees you like this." He opened his mouth as if to argue. Salem immediately interrupted whatever he was about to say. "Don't make me get Iron Bull," she threatened. With a loud huff, Solas finally stood. He cast several worried glances towards Elyssa as he made his way to the door. "I promise I'll call you if there's any change," Salem promised. With a nod of his head, Solas left. Salem watched him with worried eyes. She had more than one reason to do everything she could to help the young girl now.

Icy water cascaded down his back, his foggy mind barely registering the change in temperature. The water had been steaming when he'd gotten in. Had he been standing here that long? He'd done nothing but think of the events that had transpired in the past week. Finally holding Elyssa in his arms, the fear that came with her confession. The shrill sound of Andruil's voice on the phone, the look of a cat stalking a mouse in her eyes. Elyssa showing up in tears at his house, Salem's panic as they drove her to the hospital. Seeing Elyssa at the art store, hearing her sing so passionately, then hearing her speak to him with so little emotion. He should have seen. He should have realized. With a hard thud, he slammed his fist into the tile of his shower wall. Agonizing over the should-haves wasn't going to help Elyssa now.

Sleep was out of the question. Solas didn't even bother to try. His mind was still swirling with the images of Elyssa unconscious, underwater. All he could hear was the shallow, unsettling breaths she had begun taking after he had made her vomit. How could he sleep when this was all he could see and hear? How could he sleep when she was still no further from Death's door than she had been when he found her? No, he wouldn't worry about sleep right now. He would find something else to pass the time until he could go back to Elyssa.

He wandered into his studio, the canvas he had just finished sketching before Elyssa called still on his easel. He stared at the sketch, studying the expression on her face. The girl in the painting was wearing a mask over her pain, a single tear rolling down her cheek being the only tell-tale sign of her underlying sorrow. This was the Elyssa that everyone else saw. This was the girl that sat quietly in the back of the class, hardly saying a word. This wasn't the beautiful young woman he had come to love. The woman with wind-chime laughter and a smile that could thaw anyone's heart. The woman that had understood him so profoundly without even really trying. The woman that had shared herself piece by piece until she stood there, an open book and open heart. The woman that was kind and wise beyond her age. That had penetrated and broken the walls he had spent so long building. This painting wasn't his Elyssa, and he needed to fix that.

Turning his stereo almost all the way up, just to drown out the sound of his thoughts, he went to work. He spent the next few hours drawing, erasing, and redrawing a new sketch of Elyssa. One that showed her true beauty, that captured her spirit. He focused on the playful glimmer her eyes shone with when she laughed, the dimples that formed in her cheeks when she smiled. He paid careful attention to making sure the nose was scrunched ever-so-slightly, just as Elyssa's was when she was happy. He took his time ensuring that her upper lip was exactly the right amount thinner than the bottom one that pouted out just a little. He drew her hair falling in erratic, soft waves framing her face in a more wild and carefree way. Only when he was sure he got the exact details right did he stop to take a look at the overall picture.

This Elyssa was happy, mid-laugh, her eyes glistening with humor. This was the Elyssa he had seen during all of those lunches in his classroom. This was the Elyssa he had admired at the Van Gogh exhibit. This was the girl who saw so much more in life than just the pain it had dealt her. This was the girl that was trying to find joy, happiness, acceptance. This was his Elyssa, his vhenan.

The low, haunting melody of a piano caught his attention. He hadn't been paying attention to the music playing at random. He didn't even know what station he had turned the radio to. Now, all of his attention was focused on the delicate rise and fall of the keyboard notes as it slowly built and opened to the woman's high alto voice bringing the song to life, filling it with pain. Solas' body was raked with chills as the song rose to a crescendo and the lyrics became entirely too familiar.

"Dancing slowly in an empty room. Can the lonely take the place of you? I sing myself a quiet lullaby. Let you go, and let the lonely in to take my heart again."

Solas gripped his pencil with white knuckles, snapping the small piece of graphite easily. Memories assaulted him, overtaking all reason he was barely holding onto. She had been singing this very song when he had seen her at the art store. Her cheeks had been stained with tears, her lashes were still wet. How could he have been so blind? Her depression, her loneliness, her pain had all been right there in front of him and he had stepped away. He had turned his back on her, made his purchases, and left. With a roar of rage, he threw the broken pencil still in his hand. Unsatisfied with how blind and stupid he had been he began throwing anything he could get his hands on.

"Solas, what the fuck?!" The panicked voice of Iron Bull resounded in his ears, causing his fit of rage to come to an abrupt halt.

"Hissrad?" Solas' lip quivered, "sh-she's not… please tell me Elyssa is okay."

"She hasn't changed," Iron Bull clarified, "but care to explain to me why your studio looks like a Jackson Pollock painting?" Solas stared at him dumbfounded. "I did go to college too, you know," Iron Bull grumbled.

"Forgive me," Solas sighed, "I seem to be at my wit's end."

Iron Bull boomed with laughter, "Women. The right one will drive the wits right outta you." He set about helping Solas clean the mess he'd made.

"Salem makes you lose all sense of reason?" Solas asked with a short chuckle. He appreciated what his friend was doing for him, trying to take his mind off the anger and pain.

"I lost any wits or reason the day I met that red-headed she-devil," Iron Bull answered with humor, "and I wouldn't trade her for anyone in the world."

"Salem's a lucky woman," Solas complimented politely.

"I know. I know," Iron Bull waved a hand dismissively at him, "you want to know why I'm here." Solas nodded in response. "Answer is simple. I wanted to make sure you were okay, and to tell you that Salem is currently dealing with Elyssa's bitch of a mother at the hospital."

"We must go help her," Solas turned abruptly towards the exit, only to be stopped by a large grey hand.

"Salem is more than capable of handling herself," Iron Bull disagreed, "and it's probably best you stay away from that situation for now."

"She sent you here to make sure I didn't ruin any chance she had of getting Elyssa away from that place, didn't she?" Solas sighed. Iron Bull nodded. "It's likely best anyhow. I don't know how much help I'd be in my mental state."

"You need to get some sleep," Iron Bull suggested.

Solas shook his head miserably, "It's no use. I couldn't possibly sleep right now."

"Then you need to get drunk," Iron Bull walked into the hall, leaving Solas staring after him in the studio. He popped his head back in after a moment, "Are you coming with me, or are you going to sit here and wallow in your self-hatred all day?"

"Salem will let you know when she's dealt with everything?" Solas asked hesitantly.

"Of course." Iron Bull stared at him expectantly.

"Alright," Solas conceded, "but please let me know how things went as soon as Salem has handled the situation."

Tense silence echoed throughout the tiled hall. No nurses or doctors bustling to and fro. No visitors coming and going, save for one. Salem glared with angry, hate-filled eyes at the elven woman before her. "I don't think you fully understand the situation, Mrs. Alerion." She had asked her to speak with her privately in the hall outside of Elyssa's room, not wanting to risk Elyssa waking up to the cruel things her mother was sure to say.

The woman rolled her angry brown eyes. "I understand my daughter wanted attention and has seemed to have gotten it from the likes of you."

Salem raised to her full height, squaring her shoulders. "Mrs. Alerion, what your daughter has been through in the past week has been traumatic. So traumatizing that she has tried to take her own life."

"Are you talking about that ridiculous lie she spun about Justice assaulting her?" She scoffed, "I can't believe you still believe that."

"I saw the bruises, Mrs. Alerion," Salem answered, "of course I would believe physical evidence."

"Those bruises were from her being so hysterical after Anders got upset with her for being a slut."

Salem raised an eyebrow in disbelief. There was no way this woman had seen what she had and honestly believed that. The scratches and bruises on her hips and torso couldn't be explained away so easily. "Ma'am, where were these bruises you saw on her?"

"Her arms," she answered, "why does it matter?"

"Because the bruises I'm speaking of weren't just on her arms. They were on her hips and torso as well," Salem explained as calmly as she could.

"And you would know this how?" the woman scoffed once more.

"I was the one who took her to the hospital that night," Salem explained, "I was there when it should have been her mother taking her to the hospital. But you wouldn't have taken her, would you?"

"Of course I wouldn't. She's just doing it for attention," Mrs. Alerion justified, "she's always done that. Gets all sad and mopey that no one is paying attention to her, so then she throws herself on men and cries assault when she gets caught."

"So, you're admitting to me that you would not take your daughter to the hospital if she came to you with physical evidence of having been raped?" Salem asked slowly, clearly to not be misunderstood.

"There's no reason to spend money unnecessarily on a girl that wants to whore around and finally gets what's coming to her," she growled.

"And you are referring to your daughter, Elyssa, yes?" Again Salem spoke clearly and concisely.

"Who else would I be speaking about?" Mrs. Alerion retorted.

"Again, it is your daughter, Elyssa Lavellan, that you are referring to as a 'whore' and admitting to willingness to not assist her in seeking medical help should she so need it in the event of an assault?"

"What are you stupid? Yes, I'm talking about my daughter, Elyssa." She rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in distaste.

Salem grinned triumphantly, pulling a phone from her pocket. "Mrs. Alerion, let me explain to you what's going to happen now." The elven woman eyed the phone hesitantly. "You are going to surrender custody of Elyssa to me. Today. Right now as a matter of fact."

"Excuse me?"

"Surrender custody of Elyssa," Salem ordered, "or this recording will go along with other evidence I have to make a case to get her forcibly removed from your negligent custody, along with your other children as well."

"Why are you going through so much trouble for her?" Mrs. Alerion questioned harshly.

"Because that girl has been through enough in her young life," Salem answered, "she should have someone to turn to who will believe her." The woman opened her mouth, undoubtedly to protest. Salem cut her off immediately. "This is the last chance I'm giving you to surrender peacefully and still keep custody of the two daughters you seem to care about. Take it now, or be prepared to see me in court." Salem watched as Mrs. Alerion studied her, trying to see if she was bluffing. After a few moments of hard glaring, the woman finally sighed in defeat.

"What papers do I have to sign?" Salem pulled the appropriate papers out of her purse. She'd had a feeling after their first conversation before Thanksgiving it was going to come to this. Mrs. Alerion signed the papers quickly, giving no more thought nor care to lose her oldest daughter. After she was done, she snapped the papers into Salem's hand. "She's your problem now."

"I assure you, she won't be any problem at all," Salem objected, "my husband and I will be by this evening to gather her belongings. Please have them prepared by then."

"Whatever," Mrs. Alerion waved her hand in dismissal, "just be quick about it."

"I hope you never treat your other children this way, Mrs. Alerion," Salem sighed, "and I hope one day you realize Elyssa is a nice girl that didn't deserve this from her mother."

"Think what you want, but stay away from me and my family from now on," she ordered. A sharp heel turn later, and she was strutting angrily down the hall, never having gone in to see the girl she had just given up.