CHAPTER 34
"Why do you know about the orb?" Ellana asked Solas the instant her eyes opened in the dusty library.
In his worry for Ellana's safety, Solas was not prepared for such an intense question. Nor did he think he could attempt any answer as his mind was foggy from the anesthesia he had impulsively injected into his system. Fortunately, for him, the conversation was interrupted when two auburn headed women rushed into the shrine and hovered over the art historian like birds of prey.
Solas could barely track his surroundings as Inquisition agents ushered the pair through the hidden hallways to one of the conference rooms in the royal wing which functioned halfway between a living space for the Empress and a headquarters, in partnership with the Chantry, for her elite security force.
Officially, the Inquisition didn't exist. If it did, however, this would be the conference room that hosted their most important life-or-death discussions.
It was a room familiar to Solas, undecorated except for an imposing marble table that spanned the whole length of the room with seating for all of the Empress' twenty-or-so person cabinet, along with the necessary support staff. An entire wall was a climate-controlled bookshelf covered by a sheet of bulletproof glass. Between the aged book covers lived some of the most titillating secrets of the Orlesian crown ranging from account totals of misbegotten funds to personal diaries of long-assassinated rulers.
The light from the overhead fluorescent fixtures was overbearingly bright, prompting Solas to briefly retreat out through a door to the side that opened to a balcony overlooking an interior palace garden. The air was crisp and refreshing. Removed from the shrine, he no longer felt the tingling of magic on his skin. A relief, considering how disarming the encounter had been. A few deep inhales and exhales cleared his senses and Solas felt ready to finally face Ellana, who was sitting in one of the nearby chairs.
Sinking down opposite from her, Solas was unsurprised to see Ellana was pale and withdrawn. She had wrapped her arms around her shaking body, in an effort to conserve her warmth. He made a note to request a blanket for her as soon as the opportunity presented itself, given that chills were a side-effect from exhausting her mana to access the Fade.
It was difficult for Solas to imagine what Ellana must be thinking.
His memories of the what transpired in the Fade were haphazard: a flash of some forgotten ruins mixed with the nonsensical advice the Spirit of Wisdom had given them. It stung a bit, for him to recall, how the spirit had pushed him out of the dream world. Whatever had come to pass after his exile, had revealed one of his greatest secrets.
He would have to come to terms with such an outcome, and quickly.
Briala and Leliana argued outside the door in Orlesian. Gradually, their words had grown more heated, and the two were shouting a litany of threats at each other while debating what contrived cover-up story would work to ease Ellana into a false sense of security.
"You might want to tell them I am fluent," Ellana muttered to him, breaking the awkward silence. Her voice was light, but Solas could see how uncomfortable she was, her body stiff and her gaze wandering anywhere that was not his face.
"Leliana is aware," Solas cautioned without any need to calculate the game at play. "I suspect she wants you to hear what she's saying to Briala. That way you can't be manipulated by her."
"What are you, people? What kind of life is this?"
"A poor one," Solas responded. His voice was heavy with grief. He wasn't sure if he was speaking only to Ellana, but also to himself as a way to further process the complicated web that had repeatedly ensnared the two. He took no pleasure that his burden had become hers as well.
Again, Solas had to repress the fantasy of what it might be like between them without the added complications.
"What the fuck-" Solas winced as Ellana hurled the words at him. Her face had transformed into a snarl, reddening from her anger.
Solas was ready to tell her the truth. Or, at least as much as he could manage.
"I wrote the review under false pretenses," he tentatively began, tapping his fingers nervously on the marble table in a stable rhythm, "as when I read your words, yes, I realized that you were like me, and could lucidly dream in the Fade."
His confession appeared to have calmed Ellana, her hazel eyes were glimmering encouragingly as he spoke.
"I study the way the brain overlaps with the Fade. This work is of particular relevance to a group called the Evanurius, the blood mage who attacked you, if you recall-."
"Professor Fen'Harel, obviously, " Ellana churlishly breathed, slapping her hand down on the table "I've had enough of this secrecy. Whatever this all is-."
"Please," Solas urged, gently lifting a hand. "I don't mean to cut you off, although your exposure to this world is small, you must realize how complex it is."
"The orb," Ellana repeated, regaining her composure. "What is it?"
"A legend made real, it was made by the ancient elves to thin, if not remove, the Veil entirely. It can make the physical in the Fade, or the Fade in the physical. The possibilities are endless in the right hands-"
Ellana's face darkened as her mind rapidly put into place the various possibilities and consequences that such a capable object could render.
"The Evanuris want the orb and are hopeful that a dreamer-or you might recognize the Tevene word solminari—could use their magic to uncover where or when it disappeared in the past. In Fade Objects you describe that very process. Not only that, but you are able to determine how Elvhen artifacts worked, thereby offering an additional instructional manual."
Solas stopped speaking in the event Ellana had any follow-up questions. He was greeted instead by a somber expression, one he was not sure was contemplative or angry, so he continued speaking, each word unfurling a bit of the pressure of carrying such a secret for so long.
"After some debate, I wrote the review, very strategically to discredit your work so that the Evanurius would think you were mistaken, but not enough that you would lose your well-earned place in academia. When I wrote the review you were an anonymous scholar. I never thought-would never expect to meet you. We were in separate disciplines and were never going to cross paths."
Solas could no longer repress the emotion in his voice, " Fade Objects is unique, demonstrating a subtlety I have rarely come across. How could it not be?"
Ellana looked up at him with some uncertainty. Although it was a weak signal, he could feel her mana passing over his skin like excited butterflies. His heart quickened a bit, thinking that he might be forgiven.
He drew a large breath, clenching his eyes, drawing upon his resolve to tell Ellana the whole of his feelings: "You are lovely."
"Sweet talker," She clucked her tongue to scold him, shaking her head. A needful look surfaced in her eyes, it reminded him of when they had kissed on her bed. He wondered if she, too, recalled those moments as he returned the gaze.
"I understand that it is an unworthy thing for me to say as I have lied to you," Solas offered with hope, he was doing his best not to gawk at Ellana too much as she grinned back at him. "Not only about the book, but about the life I live."
Ellana was about to respond when Leliana burst in, the door loudly slamming against the wall, ricocheting shut. The petite Orleisian spy was wearing her typical purple velvet tracksuit, shaking her head, sitting down with a loud thud, putting her feet up on the table.
"Solas has updated you about the orb now," The Nightengale chirped. "Good."
Observing Leliana's tell, her left eye twitching, Solas knew her light demeanor was a farce. She was furious at him.
The art historian nodded in agreement, an apprehensive expression flashing over her face. Solas respected that she knew enough not to trust the Nightingale. Watching Ellana he marveled as she revealed as little information as possible as she relayed the report to Leliana about what had passed in the Fade. Several accounts of which, Solas noted, did not line up with his memory.
Is she willingly deceiving Leliana? Or does she not remember clearly?
"Briala is concerned the library is dangerous," Leliana announced after Ellana had finished her story, focusing on Solas again. A distraction technique. "I don't understand what happened."
"What drew Ellana to the library, or what magic was activated, I can't say exactly." Solas had several theories he wasn't going to share. "The space seems to be an environment that supports a direct connection with the Fade. Dreamers were much more common, if you recall, among the Ancient Elvhen."
"This is all so much," Ellana lamented, for the first time Solas saw her uncharacteristically flabbergasted, the weight of what had passed over the last day, if not the last few months, were obviously wearing on her. "Where did-Wynne?"
"Wynne was sent back with a driver to Val Royeaux. She wouldn't leave until determining you were fine, and I'm not sure she accepts our explanation of a gas leak, but she's signed an NDA. Rodderick on the other hand-"
Ellana instinctively flinched.
"I think it is time for Rodderick to be transferred to a little chapel by the sea." Leliana's eyes gleamed. "He is, after all, supposed to be on sabbatical."
"That easily?" Ellana sighed.
Leliana nodded.
"What about the Department of Art History-the bus has left?"
"You were meeting with the curator of Ancient Artifacts of the Elvhen, Tevene, and Orlesian world. An impromptu catch-up. No need to wait for the bus, after all, it is Friday."
"What now?" Solas asked. The lack of resistance from Leliana worried him.
"Perhaps we can continue this conversation on another day," Leliana offered. "You must want to go home, Dr. Lavellan?"
"I can go home? No experiments or-" Ellana was doe-eyed, her voice a high pitch."
"We are a security agency," Leliana laughed. "I don't think you are a threat. Unless of course, you want to tear down the Veil."
"Hardly," Ellana laughed. "I'm an art historian. All I want to do is-"
"Live your life in peace," Leliana finished in a supportive tone, standing to place a comforting hand on the elf's shoulder. "I can get you a car?"
"A car?" Ellana looked directly at Solas as if asking permission. Her eyes appeared glazed over, almost as if her thoughts were muzzled. and Solas noted that she appeared to be weakening. "I don't know if I can drive?"
Solas glanced at the art historian quizzically. Ellana didn't sound like herself, he was worried that she wasn't thinking clearly if she assumed that she would be the one driving.
"Would you like me to drive you home, Dr. Lavellan?" Solas offered much to Leliana's bemusement. He expected that she would follow-up with him as soon as he had deposited the scholar safely at her apartment.
Ellana nodded, her eyes blinking rapidly as if fighting to stay awake.
"Alright," Solas said, jiggling the keys in his pocket. He wanted to get Ellana as far away from the Inquisition headquarters as possible. It was a cursed place. "Leliana, let's go find a blanket for Dr. Lavellan."
Stepping outside the room, Leliana turned to him with an impish grin. When they reached a supply room, filled with survival gear and other supplies, she whispered under her breath. "I noticed you didn't tell her about Mythal-"
"Another day," Solas shortly replied, bristling at the spymistress' continued interest in his personal affairs. He could never be sure if she was a friend, or somehow moving him around an imaginary chessboard.
Leliana parted her lips, about to speak, but thought otherwise. The frown returned.
Ellana's shaking did not improve on the walk to Solas' car in the heated underground garage. Her gait was unsteady, and several times they had to pause for the scholar to gather her bearings, his arm firmly around her waist as he kept her upwards. It concerned him further to hear zero protests as he guided her into the passenger seat. Or when he wrapped her in a blanket, carefully buckling a seat belt over her shaking body.
I'll suggest going to the hospital if she doesn't improve in the next hour or so. He thought to himself, turning the radio off, really so he could peak at Ellana out of the corner of his eye.
Before he could maneuver the car out of the Winter Palace security checkpoints, Ellana had fallen asleep, curled up on her side towards the window. Noting that her breathing was steady, Solas felt his anxiety abate a bit.
As he was about to merge on the highway back to Val Royeaux, Ellana sprung up in her seat to glare at him. She was decisively not weak, and incredibly angry. Swallowing nervously, he tried not to swerve the vehicle out of surprise.
Creators, all that demureness was all a rouse to throw Leliana off. Solas couldn't help but appreciate just how cunning the art historian was sitting next to him. He had been fooled.
"What of that was bullshit?" Ellana burst out in a sharp voice, her arms crossed.
It was hard for Solas to concentrate on the road considering the creative Elvhen curses that continued to fall out of Ellana's mouth like a waterfall.