Chapter 18
Solas was packing his rolling suitcase. He should be leaving for Val Royeaux the next morning as the conference was finally over. Only, now he was flying directly to Tevinter to tour Gereon Alexius' lab and learn more about his experimental research. The task brought him no relish. Alexius was arrogant. On occasion, his beliefs edged towards mage supremacy. Considering, however, that Solas would be traveling to Minrathous on the magister's private jet and staying at his home, he needed to find a way to feign enthusiasm.
He suspected that the only one that felt any joy about the situation was Leiliana. Alexis didn't seem particularly keen on hosting an elf at his sprawling estate.
Opening the mini-bar, Solas grabbed a bottle of dry Champagne, peeled off the foil, and popped the cork across the room. Searching the set-up, he located a stack of plastic cups wrapped in cling wrap. Pouring himself a glass, he resolved to bill to the Inquisition for the whole exorbitant amount.
It was trite, but drinking such an expensive drink out of a disposable cup made him feel like a delinquent. Knowing the disapproving look, Leliana would make when she saw the charge brought him a petty sense of satisfaction.
Unable to sleep, Solas began to flip through the hundreds of television channels, lamenting to himself how terrible scriptwriting had become, when he heard his phone vibrate on the nightstand. Picking it up, he found a text from Ellana.
xxx-xxx-3245, Ellana Lavellan, 11:45 p.m.Today was perhaps more awful than fractured ribs.
Awful? Fractured ribs? In a matter of seconds, Solas pulled up Ellana's contact information and hit the phone icon to dial her number. The phone rang a few times before he realized what he had done, and a confused voice at the other end answered.
"H-hello? S-Solas?"
"Ellana?"
"Yes, did you mean to call me-was this a butt dial?" She asked with a slight twinge of amusement. Solas could picture her smile, the branches of her vallaslin twisting on her cheeks.
"No. I-I. No. You sounded upset, I wanted to see-or rather-ask what was wrong."
Solas gritted his teeth. He regretted having called Ellana without a plan, or at least a greeting prepared. It wasn't like him to have such a kneejerk reaction.
"Oh, I'm sorry." Ellana said with a slight sigh, "It was a long day. I didn't mean to worry you-I should have thought given-I mean what my word choices might imply-all things considered."
"I can let you go, of course." He responded, shutting off the TV hopefully. He was enjoying the sound of her voice. "It is late."
"No," she responded as if she were considering the offer. Solas could hear the sound of papers rustling in the background, and the scrape of a chair, as Ellana moved about her apartment. "I'm glad you called-it is nice to have someone to talk with. Although, I forgot about the time difference. Do you need to go to bed?"
"It is late, but I was packing. Generally, I don't sleep much. Long hospital shifts."
"Ah, will you be returning tomorrow?"
Solas tried to repress the joy he felt, hearing the eagerness in Ellana's voice. She was just as excited to see him as he was to see her.
"I have attended better conferences," he admitted wryly. "I'm afraid I've been asked to travel out of the city to consult on a few difficult cases."
It wasn't a direct lie, but Solas was surprised at how much deceiving Ellana hurt him. His gut twisted. It wasn't the first lie that he had told her. Only, the stakes seemed to have shifted. Even if he could tell her the truth, confessing the extent of his involvement in the Inquisition might cause him to lose her. Let alone, if he admitted his connection to the Evanuris.
What would Ellana think if she knew how intimately he was linked to the same group that had attacked her? These sorts of situations never have good outcomes. Was it easier to end things now? Before more hurt could be had?
"Will you return in time for the Hallow's Eve costume contest, at least?" Ellana asked with a renewed cheerfulness.
"I'm unsure, lethallan."
"According to Dorian, it is the best event of the year."
"No doubt, it is my favorite campus tradition. Or perhaps the only one I enjoy? Tell me, however, about your day."
He could sense Ellana stiffening, a slight intake of breath abruptly hitting the receiver of the phone.
"It's not your injuries-are you? Did Morrigan give you any cause for concern?"
"No-no, I'm sorry to make you think. It's just. Well-"
It sounded to Solas as if she flopped on the floor with a small huff.
"Yes?"
"This conversation between us-it caused me to become a bit carried away. What I mean to say is a friendship between us might be challenging."
"Does it trouble you? We aren't in the same department." A conversation? Friendship? Is that what this is? Solas was worried he might have read too much into the exchange. After all, Ellana didn't have many friends in Val Royeaux.
"No, its. I had some problems with a senior faculty member today. I wouldn't want to disparage one of your colleagues."
"Was it Roderick?" He groaned. He hated the little man that managed to upset any reasonable policy or measure on campus. They had served on several committees together, and the tyrant had regularly attempted to convert Solas to Andrastianism.
"How did you know?" Solas sensed surprise in her voice.
"Its always Roderick Asignon. I don't know why the administration hasn't fired him."
"Its…" her voice trailed off. "I don't want to put you in an uncomfortable position. Nor do I want to be accused of benefiting from nepotism."
"Neither is happening-everyone knows Roderick is an inflated egomaniac. Last year he petitioned the faculty senate to halve the funding to any science department because he thought concepts like evolution and magical theory went against Andraste. He targeted me in particular, given my study of magic."
Solas paused, not wanting to go into a full explanation of his scholarship in the event it reminded Ellana about that foolish review he had written about her work. It appeared to him that they had put the subject on hold, at least temporarily.
"He lectured me on my attitude and called me an ignorant savage."
"What!" Solas interjected. "Pala'an, telam'dirtha."
Ellana laughed at his obscene use of Elvhen, translating roughly into common as "Fuck that person, and his bad words."
"Well, your outrage is clear. Ar'ame tel'din. At least, not angry anymore. That's not a burden I care to carry with me longer than a day."
"Tel'samahl. He called you an ignorant savage? I take it because you are Dalish?"
"That would be correct. Verbatim, he said, he couldn't 'blame me for my ignorance considering my upbringing.' Oh, and then he blocked the doorway when I tried to exit the office."
Solas clenched his fist. He was having a hard time keeping his fury under control. His position at the university was such that he could make a few phone calls, and Roderick would never dare to set foot in the same room as Ellana again, but he didn't want to undermine Ellana.
"That is harassment."
"I know its harassment."
"Did you report it to Vivienne?"
"Not until after Roderick reported me to Vivienne."
"Oh, Creators, Ellana, what could he possibly report you for?"
"Not using the required textbook properly. A textbook he insisted upon despite better academic judgment."
"Vivienne loathes him. Surely-"
"Vivienne was-on the whole-reasonable. She volunteered to speak with Roderick about his conduct. She did also lecture me at length about understanding different pedagogical models and respecting seniority."
Solas tried to interrupt and reassure Ellana once again that Roderick was an ass, only to be cut off.
"Sorry I have to stop you. Knowing the senior faculty gossip could be construed as an unfair advantage. Imagine what people would say if they thought you were trying to influence Vivienne on my behalf."
"Ah, yes. I didn't think of that."
Solas took another nervous sip of Champagne from the plastic cup. The pause lingered for a few seconds longer than was comfortable. He was worried that he had upset Ellana. He was doing his best not to sour the evening.
"Solas?"
"Yes?"
"This might be an impossible task for both of us, but I think we should keep our conversation separate from work. Besides, all I seem to do is write email responses to students who don't bother to read the syllabus. Give me something else to think about."
Perhaps Ellana was flirting.
He could hear the opening and closing of a door, followed by the sound of a few bangs as if Ellana was hitting a mallet or clanging a dish together.
"Are you cooking?" Solas asked curiously, really only to delay having to come up with another topic. He knew the question came out a bit forced.
"No, I actually hate cooking. I'm grabbing a bag of frozen peas to ice my ribs."
"Are they-"
"Nope, new subject," she insisted, with an awkward laugh. "I think if I talk about my rib fractures one more time, I will turn into Fereledan barbeque."
Solas chuckled. It was a struggle for him to find something to ask about other than work. He knew about Ellana's career and research interests. Also that she was Dalish, other than that, he realized he didn't know much else.
"If you don't like cooking," Solas stammered, "What do you like?"
Ellana laughed, humming to herself for a few moments.
"Hmm. Other than art? I like swimming. Minrathous is always hot, so my friends and I lived on ocean beaches. I run, haven't in Val Royeux. Certainly not right now-unfortunately."
"Do you miss it?"
"The running or Minrathous?"
"Minrathous."
"More and more, it seems. Have you been?"
Solas' heart sunk a bit, he had been to the city-and would return tomorrow-but only on Inquisition business. Hinting at the task he faced over the next few days would put her in danger. It felt like a curse, however, that it was unavoidable for him to lie to Ellana in a seemingly casual conversation.
"No, I've never been. I would like to one day." Perhaps with you.
"You speak Elvhen well. Where did you learn it?"
"Did I surprise you?" Solas chuckled.
"No-I didn't mean. I know you're not Dalish. Only its a dying language-"
"It was my first language. I was born in one of the remote Northern cities. Farming town."
"Ah, so your family?"
"Pushed out of the cities when the alienages were cleaned out, I suspect. I don't know for sure. My parents died right after I was born."
"It must be hard not to know your history." Ellana acknowledged in a quiet voice.
"I have seen enough in my journeys, perhaps, to make up for lost dreams," He said.
"How poetic," Ellana said in a voice somewhere between sarcasm and appreciation.
Solas wanted to ask about her family and clan, but stopped himself remembering that Leliana told him they had died when they were at the hospital. It seemed as if it was also a topic Ellana also wanted to avoid as she changed the subject.
"That also explains why you don't have an accent," Ellana observed, which Solas assumed meant the guttural trill of High Elvhen favored by the Dalish clans.
"Neither do you!" Solas pointed out dryly.
"Oh, but I do. I learned to talk like a true shemlin, " Ellana said with the typical stretched out vowels, and the hard throaty emphasis on r's that Dalish speakers were known for "Less threatening that way."
"I think your accent is much more sigen'dirth." He offered. The phrase was translated literally as sugar-speaker and was generally written as 'sweet talker. In common, the phrase was innocuous, implying that someone spoke beautifully, but in Elvhen, it had several erotic uses. Such as, a person who kissed so skillfully, as if their lips were covered in sugar, that a lover could never refuse them.
Solas had forgotten the latter. The heat began to rise to his face. Not smooth.
Ellana evidently had not and was laughing. It was an excited giggle at first, developing into a hearty cackle. She was enjoying this
"This was not the turn I intended this phone call to take, " Solas stuttered. Surely, Ellana would think him such a dolt after saying such a careless thing. Or worse, consider him a lecher.
"How did you intend this call to go?" Ellana replied, her voice was playful, but he could sense some tension underneath. She seemed to be holding her breath, waiting for a reply.
"Obviously, I did not have an agenda." He rubbed his hand over his head and face. "The champagne must be getting to my head."
"Champagne? I'm jealous."
"When I return. Would you let me take you to-"
"Are you a sigen'dirth , hahren ?" Ellana's interrupted him. Her voice was casual, but the question was brazen enough to provoke a jolt in his body.
He had to pause, not to let the shudder surface in his voice.
"That theory remains untested."
"Is that an invitation?" Ellana breathed.
His heart was pounding, and Solas pictured kissing Ellana repeatedly. Unsure at the same time, if he should allow himself to go there in his mind.
"It could be," He dared, his voice growing low.
"I think we should revisit the subject on your return." She teased, her words muffled as if she were touching her lips.
The silence between them was thick with anticipation. It was so easy between them.
"Ellana?" He interrupted gently. He wanted to say he was hanging up the phone, catching the first plane back to Val Royeaux, and driving straight to her apartment door. In another world, he would be. That was not the reality, however, given what he faced the next morning.
"Yes?"
"I was going to let you know this tomorrow." Solas continued with some melancholy, "I won't be reachable when I leave the city. My phone won't have reception."
"I understand," she said a bit sadly.
"I will call you as soon as I land in Val Royeaux. Depending on your schedule…."
"I'll keep my phone on," Ellana said warmly with a yawn that did little to disguise the flirtation lingering in every word she spoke. "Although I can't make any promises."
"Of course," he chuckled, " On nydha."
"On nydha, Solas."
A click sound told him she had hung up. Looking at the watch, Solas saw they had been talking for longer than he inteded. He'd be lucky to get a few hours of sleep. However, It had been worth it.
Solas went through the motions of getting ready for bed. His thoughts were on Ellana as he brushed his teeth, pulled off his clothes, and crawled into the empty hotel bed.
Had he ever felt this way before?
Only a sharp feeling of dread overcame him as he remembered what he faced over the next few days. The dangers of his double-life rarely bothered him. Someone had to ensure that the Evanurias would not gain power or resources. Fate had identified him as one of those individuals. It was merely a job.
Only now was it? A step in the wrong direction, and he could be harmed. Perhaps even killed. Or worse, Ellana could be.
What was this tangled web he found himself in?
Solas had never found it to be so cruel.