A/N: Thank you for the continued support of this story! Please enjoy!

Chapter Inspiration: Flames (Tedy) Okay, one of the geniuses on YouTube seriously needs to make a Solavellan video with this song. I can't NOT think of Solas when I hear it.


Dangerous Love

"Why did you insist on meeting here?"

Fen'Harel scowled at his fellow Dreamer. Per his follower's request, they were not in the realm of Dreams. They were, in fact, in the northern bell tower of Perivantium with a perfect view of the residual smoke left by the Tevinter Archon's unfortunate demise. Feynriel glowered openly in return; the lad had grown bold, but his loyalty in the face of both the Tevinter Imperium and the Inquisitor had earned him some leniency.

"Because there are always eyes watching and ears listening in the Fade. Here, I at least have a chance of reaching you and only you." The young magister stood silently for a moment, wringing his fingers while he summoned the courage to continue. "Months ago, you tasked me with guiding Inara Lavellan through her Dreams to ensure her safety, thinking it would soothe your guilty conscience. Through no fault of my own, she has taken those skills and chosen to use them for the good of those she cares for. The same power that grants her these abilities in this mortal realm is sapping her life the farther she reaches."

"I am aware."

The half-elf sniffed in disapproval of his master's nonchalance.

"She is determined to fulfill her glorious, terrible burden, no matter the consequence for herself. Does that mean nothing?"

"Soon, she will be relieved of that burden."

"By the sky falling, your death…or hers? It's back. I may not fully understand the nature of the Anchor's magic, but it left a permanent mark – one that can only be controlled by its true master." Feynriel's indignation melted away as a tinge of regret entered the other man's eyes. "But you knew this. And you've let her suffer. What sort of man could do such a thing?"

"A man with a greater purpose. Or a monster."

"I know you don't mean that," the boy gasped. "I've seen your Dreams, Dread Wolf. I know there is more beyond the shroud of dead god. You want to go to her. Why don't you?"

Solas allowed himself a sympathetic smile to hide how well the boy was hitting his mark. And you've let her suffer. The lad's intentions were noble.

"Your commitment to the cause gives you credit, Feynriel, but do not test me."

"Or you will silence me as you have silenced others?" he snapped back. Suledin had indeed won his devotion – a talent she had always possessed. Had she intended the Dread Wolf's destruction, it likely would have made his task all the more difficult. "I do not fear death, but can you say the same for yourself – or for her? How long must she endure these nightmares alone? Is it really so hard to admit that your greatest mistake also produced your greatest love?"

"It is not."

"Then why?" Solas turned away at that, focusing on the distant trees to the south. His instinct told him to kill Feynriel and flee into the Fade; he hated himself for that. Why did he tolerate this truth? Part of him wanted to be convinced. "I see you do not even truly have an answer for yourself. Is it fear that she will change your mind? Fear to see the suffering caused by your experimentation on the world? Are we really nothing more than playthings to you?"

"I do not fear her Dreams. Only my part in it," the ancient declared, his voice quiet yet crisp. "You do not know her strength, my friend."

"Maybe. But do you really wish to test it? Suledin cannot stand alone forever."

Tension pervaded the night as Feynriel seemed to reach the end of his lecture. Out of the corner of his eye, Solas watched the boy walk to the banister at his side and lean against it, watching the sordid nightlife of Perivantium outside the tavern below their feet. He seemed resigned, as if this meeting had been entered into with the expectation that he wouldn't live to see another sunrise. So, they had come this…


The raw Fade brought an immense peace to Fen'Harel's weary soul. Feynriel had been useful, but he was persistent to remind the god of his greatest regrets and desires. His longing and duty to see Inara safe kept him returning to the Dreamer for more insight into the woman's wellbeing; it was that, or return to her Dreams personally.

Solas told himself that using Feynriel to guide and watch Lavellan would lessen his own distraction. Yet hadn't the spirit of Desire's multiple visits proven that futile?

Feeding on his emotions, the Fade formed itself into his Skyhold study. Desire in the form of his vhenan pressed herself against him.

"You came back," she repeated, her voice nothing but a breathed whisper and a wish.

Gradually, the woman raised her eyes to meet his. Her body was warm and soft. Those lips brushed against his chin, inviting, teasing.

"I can't."

The man shook his head to clear it as the memory of Desire's visit dissipated. Even knowing that it was just a spirit imitating the Inquisitor, his heart ached.

He tried so hard to remove himself, to convince himself that this world was merely shadow. But there she was – so very real. And he had brought her nothing but heartache and pain.

Again, the mist took shape. A dark, stormy night. The Herald fighting in hand-to-hand combat with a spirit of Despair that wore a vicious mockery of her face. Raging in the form of the Wolf, Solas chased the demon from his beloved, only to turn back and find her lost again.

The demon of Despair was driven away, but the Wolf turned back to see the Herald at the top of a hill, at the mouth a cave. A spirit in his own image reached down to save her from the nightmare.

"Come, vhenan!"

When Inara took the spirit's hand, Desire looked down to the seething lupine and smiled. It was a game, and it had just won this round.

'Twas almost as if the threads of Fate were plotting against his determined apathy. Would he be able to withstand it much longer?

Finally, the grey mist solidified into the quiet evening of Crestwood. Shadows of himself and Inara passed contentedly in the memory of that fateful evening when he broke her heart…the first time.

"For now, the best gift I can offer is…the truth. You are unique. In all Thedas, I never expected to find someone who could draw my attention from the Fade."

He brought her to that moonlit lake fully intending to tell her the whole, real truth. Everything – who and what he was, how the Mark came to be, how Corypheus obtained the Orb, the war with the Evanuris…everything. But, at the last moment, as he looked into her beautiful, innocent, wise gaze, he could not do it.

"…your face."

And so it was…the beginning of the end. In that moment, he realized how important that mortal woman had become to him – how deeply he loved her. She coaxed him from his self-imposed prison and into the waking world. All his efforts to remain callous to this new reality melted at her touch. Every stolen moment was a precious image of passion and salvation and poetry that enthralled him. Every conversation held new weight and understanding and tenderness. And, because of that, he had lied. He had to protect her from the path he was doomed to follow.

The Dread Wolf's greatest fear had once been dying alone. This little Dalish had changed that. She had changed him. His greatest fear was losing her, of seeing yet another thing he touched die. That was why he stayed away now. If he gave into his pride and longing, if he tried fixing her nightmares, he would ultimately destroy her…just as he had destroyed everything else. She had torn him from his grief and despair, yet it was all he had to offer.

Do you intend to kill the very thing you love? he imagined Mythal chiding him.

He had departed from her to keep her safe, at least until his plans came to fruition. But clearly, she was anything but safe. He walked the Dinan'shiral…but perhaps he did not walk alone. None of this was supposed to happen. But it had.

Perhaps it was time.

You will bring her nothing but death, the voice pestered again. Not simply his imagination, but his torn mind drawing a demon to feed on his guilt.

"Begone, spirit," the Dread Wolf groaned, closing his eyes again the fading image of Crestwood. "Do not tempt me with my regret. I am all too aware of my shortcomings."

No. It could not be...could never be.

"Solas...don't leave me. Not now. I love you."

The image of Crestwood may have faded, but the echo remained to torment the visitor.

"You have a rare and marvelous spirit. In another world..."

"Why not this one?"

"I can't," Fen'Harel whispered to the empty Void, his voice breaking. The recollection of the pain he had caused his beloved sent the air fleeing from his lungs. His chest burned with sorrow. "I'm sorry."

But then you turned away. Why?

With no eyes watching, the Dread Wolf sank to his knees, holding his pounding head between his hands as he fought his loneliness. Not only would he die alone in his quest, but he had caused unbearable anguish to the creature he cared for the most. She would die because of his folly, just like his People and his entire world before her. The pain of leaving her on that cliffside rang anew.

Solas...var lath vir suledin!

"Vhenan..."