A/N: My sincerest thanks to everyone who has followed this story so far! I know I've been teasing a real Solas/Inara encounter for a while, but I promise it's coming! Enjoy!


Predators

You changed everything, but it can't.

Cole?

Lavellan turned in placed, squinting at the endless mist for a sign of her old companion. Instead of the spirit of Compassion, she was faced with a towering eluvian, identical to the one in her Dream from the Black City.

We could hear their screams, but could never find them.

Just like last time, there was a distinct sense of something looking back from the depths of the mirror – tortured, hateful, and full of unbridled power. In brief glimpses, there may have been eyes blinking at the Dreamer, yet perhaps it was an illusion.

Curiosity overcoming her, Inara reached out to the mirror.

As soon as her fingertip made contact with the watery surface, a warm glow of magic flowed from her outstretched hand. Ripples began to form in the glass. As the ripples traveled outward, they grew. The frame of the eluvian melted at their touch. And, all at once, the mirror dissipated into a gentle explosion of dewfall that melted away the mist of the raw Fade. The scene that remained replaced curiosity with a familiar ache.

The moon fell coolly on the quiet grove, crisply illuminating every branch and pebble. The gentle waters of Crestwood prompted a flood of memories – memories she wished would stay buried, yet memories she clung to as a last moment of innocence. Here, he had taken her vallaslin. Here, he had broken her heart. Here, he had laid down the mantle of the wandering Dreamer and retaken the burden of a god.

Then what I must tell you…the truth.

"Solas?!"

Her voice was sharper and more desperate than expected. She pivoted and gasped at the immediate presence of the man who had answered her summons.

"You called?" he asked lightly, cocking his head at her distress.

"Why here?" His brow furrowed as he considered a reply. "I want the truth about that night."

Slowly exhaling, the mage took her hand, turning it over between his own and gently rubbing his thumb around the glowing Anchor. She resisted the impulse to relax against his touch, but resistance didn't last.

"That night, I wanted to tell you everything – what I was, who I was, and what I had done."

"But instead, you took my markings and you ended it," she countered somewhat bitterly. "Why?"

"Fear. Fear of hurting you. Of how you might react to my mission. Of my attachment to you. Fear that you might hinder my resolve to accomplish what must be done."

"Do you really think I wouldn't have understood?" The woman pulled her hand away sharply. His words were everything she wanted to hear – the confessions, the admissions, the truth – but something held her back. A small part of her screamed that this was wrong, yet it was all she wanted. "Why didn't you tell me then? Do you respect me so little?"

With bitterly remorseful eyes, Solas ran his strong hands softly up her arms and along her neck, sending a shocking tingle down her spine. He brushed a strand of hair away from her eyes and stepped close. Inara instinctively reached for him, finding comfort in the warmth of his muscular torso beneath the off-white tunic. But his eyes never released her from their spell.

"On the contrary," he uttered wistfully, "I respect you so much."

A sigh of unexpected relief passed between the Herald's lips at those words. Compared to this immortal being, she could easily be considered a passing fancy, a momentary distraction, or even an inconsequential annoyance. Whatever reassurances or declarations of love Solas had given during their days together, it all seemed a faraway memory of another Inara Lavellan in another life. Ar lath ma, vhenan at times held little meaning on this road of loss and sorrow. Knowing he still cared and respected her seemed to lift some of her burden.

"Solas… I must ask." She bit her lip, hoping in vain that this wasn't just a dream. "Where are you? I thought I was close, but…I have to see you."

He bent closer, his breath tickling her ear as he whispered,

"Closer than you think. I'm right here, ma vhenan."

Inara opened her eyes with a disappointed breath of frigid night air. Reluctantly, she pulled her blanket closer and turned toward the hot coals of the campfire. Captain Fabria caught her eye from across the way at his sentry post, but he made no comment on the Herald's unrest.

I'm right here…

Resigned that no more sleep would be found before the dawn, Lavellan rose and nudged the human away from his post to take the last watch.

Ma vhenan. Not once had Solas used the longer form of that term of endearment. Always 'vhenan'. That only meant one thing...

A single tear slipped down Lavellan's cheek before she could control herself. Her soul throbbed in stark rejection of the truth and she shivered at the memory of the spirit's touch. Where was Solas? Why had he not come to her?

"Mar solas ena mar din," she whispered to the dancing flames. Your pride will be your death.


"You can't just leave!" Dorian exclaimed, snatching a handful of maps from the packed chest and replacing them on the desk. "You can't just disappear from her life like this, after everything you have been through together. You'll break her heart."

"It's too late for that," Leliana argued, the magister's insistence beginning to annoy her. She retrieved the maps with forced calm and replaced them in the trunk. "I can't watch her throw everything away on a chance that this dream is really Solas reaching out to her."

Dorian blocked the Spymaster's path with a huff as she attempted to pass.

"But what if it is? What if there is even the slightest chance that she can finally end her quest? What if she really can stop him?"

She shook her head sadly.

"For her, I don't think it has been about stopping the Dread Wolf for several months. Maybe it never really was."

"You know that's not true! She has been the guiding light for thousands of souls who were ready to give up on the world! Was it not Inara who defeated Corypheus? Or have you forgotten?"

"Dorian," the woman scolded, folding her arms disappointedly. "I do not question her heroism as the Inquisitor. But you were there, even more so than I. You watched Inara crumple under the weight of the Anchor as it sucked away her life. You were with her as she searched those ruins of the Crossroads and realized that the man she loved didn't really exist. You carried her broken body from that cliff after Solas left her for dead."

She practically spat the last word at him, as if the man could ever forget the sight of his best friend unconscious and heartbroken with residual magic eating away at what was left of her arm. But he knew Leliana blamed herself for not finding out the Dread Wolf's identity – or at least suspecting something was amiss. The Spymaster seemed determined to fix her mistake by uncovering every mystery of Fen'Harel; hence the reason she was departing for Orlais posthaste. Scholars flocked to the College, and she could find a new base of operations through Divine Victoria.

"He saved her life that day. You know that, right?"

The rogue finally sighed in defeat, glaring at the rug as her friend waited patiently.

"I know. I know a lot of things, Dorian. But we are running out of time to use that knowledge, and the Inquisitor is no longer interested in being the Inquisitor. I can't stay and watch her spiral into this obsession. I can't invest all hope on a chance that she can change his heart before it is too late. The Dread Wolf must be defeated, and people like me are the ones who will likely pay the price if we fail. The Inquisition is gone; the Nightingales arise. It is time we made ready for a new chapter."