Author's Note: This fic will primarily be an exploration of what Inquisitor Lavellan decides to do after Trespasser. It will also occasionally flashback to unseen moments between her and Solas. Anticipate angst, but also fluff and adventure.

Chapter 1: Sorrow

"I must tell you something."

Her eyes stared through him. Expectant, full of utmost trust. A trust misplaced. For all her guile and insight, she was but a child. He was the deceiver, full of vague stories and smoke. But could he not share his greatest burden with the one person who might, if not understand, accept it? Could he not find comfort in the one who had changed everything by remaining the same?

He faltered, and that was all it took. His soul wavered for an instant and in that moment, he knew that he could not reveal the truth about his nature. He told a different truth.

Is that not the same as telling a lie?

He brushed the memory from his mind like a cobweb. He liked to think he did, at least. The night air was languid and heavy on his face. The Brecilian Forest was quiet tonight, waiting with bated breath as Fen'Harel graced it with his presence. He trudged through the underbrush in a slow, methodical manner, brown and dry needles crackling softly. He pushed aside a pine bough, his hand sparking green in the dark.

He had to go back. He had to bring them back.

The magic tingled across her skin. It felt similar to her mark - nerves charged and white-hot but not quite burning. It was ancient magic. She felt its elven thrum, whispering to her across the Void, pulsing through his gentle fingers as the blue-green light washed over her face, washed her face away.

"You are so beautiful."

Then his heart broke in his eyes, she saw it, he blinked and it was gone, he was gone, his hands no longer held hers, he turned away —

"Inquisitor?"

Elyra blinked, her cheeks burning as she returned to the present. Her advisors watched her, their faces carefully blank. She tightened her grip on the edge of the table, her knuckles taut and white. The whispers abated. "Apologies. You were saying, Cassandra?"

Cassandra did not miss a beat. "Your final mission reports," she said, handing Elyra a parcel of documents. "Most everything has gone smoothly."

"Solas—" her voice broke. "I love you."

"Her Holiness has returned to Val Royeaux," Josephine remarked, never failing to be sunny. "The Chantry delegacy has arrived in the past week for the ceremony, as she promised. "

His eyes found hers again. They were beautiful. "In another world—"

Cullen cleared his throat. "The bulk of the Qunari have fled from Orlais, and our forces are taking care of any violent stragglers. But truly, with the dominant threat of invasion resolved, plans to disband can move forward."

The Inquisitor nodded wordlessly, clutching the package to her chest awkwardly with her right hand. "Thank you. Dismissed," she managed before turning on a heel and walking from the room. Her ears were still burning with embarrassment. She decided to read the missives in her quarters; perhaps privacy would be a blessing. The vir'abelasan resumed its whispers.

The room was quiet and forlorn without her presence, despite the warm afternoon sun that filtered through the stained glass and formed colorful puddles on the floor. The three remaining advisors looked at each other, then away. Cassandra's jaw worked and she paced to the window. "Has her speech been written?"

"Parts of it," Josie said. She combed through the papers on her lectern. "I'm uncertain which direction to take it - hopeful and optimistic? Realistic and stoic? The Inquisitor has not been very forthcoming on that front. Understandably."

Cassandra snorted. "If I were her, I would greatly desire not to speak at all." After a moment, she returned to the table with a righteous scowl settled on her noble features.

Josephine's lips turned down as her mask dropped. "Honestly? I feel the same way." She began scribbling something on her lectern board. Cullen peered over her shoulder and saw it was a doodle of what seemed to be herself punching a bald elf in the head. He desperately resisted the urge to laugh.

Without any warning, Cassandra punched the war table, letting out an angry sound. "I'll kill him!" Josie snapped the quill nib she held to paper, brows knitted at Cassandra's outburst. Cullen touched a calming hand to her shoulder, and she sighed, and her scowl mellowed to a grimace.

"The Inquisitor did what was best for the Inquisition," Cullen told them. "She clearly felt that under no circumstances was it to fall under the Chantry's control. I can't say I disagree with that decision." Despite his placid face, Cassandra believed the flatness of his gaze betrayed his feelings. They had never seen her like this - distracted, unreadable, absent. She had always burned bright, a sun for all of them. After his sudden return and immediate betrayal, she faltered and dimmed.

"I don't care about the Inquisition!" The words might have scandalized a person less familiar with Cassandra, but her fellow advisors knew exactly what she meant. "She is a blessing to all of us. She bettered all of us. And he just––" Cassandra swept her hand through the air. She looked at the door through which Elyra had retreated. "We need to do something. I'm going to talk to her."

Cullen grasped her forearm as she turned to leave. "She needs to heal on her own time. I doubt she would appreciate––"

"Then you talk to her, if you understand her so well!" She snapped, pulling her arm from his hand and stalking out. Cullen stared her retreating figure, brows raised at her outburst.

Josephine shook her head sadly and sighed. "It wouldn't hurt to try," she told Cullen, patting his hand. His lips thinned – not quite a smile, but something.

Her room was quieter, but in the quiet, the whispers only grew louder. She was better able to pick things out from the muck of voices in her mind, and in the past two and a half years, ignoring them became easier. Today, the strongest word surfacing from the Well of Sorrows was harellan, or harillen, or maybe even hellathen - deception, or a noble struggle? Truly, it was mocking her at this point. He'd been very clear - do not drink it. And she, the foolish Dalish pretender, had sipped from it like it was tasty mead.

She sat at her desk, staring at the pile of Elvish books on the corner before looking away, almost ashamed, as she picked through the packet Cassandra had given her. She was pleased to read that her clan remained safe and whole, and Deshanna still posessed a seat on Wycome's city council. She was beyond relieved, even a bit shocked, that they had gotten away unscathed in the turmoil and corruption in Wycome. The Free Marches' city-states were falling apart faster than she could count - some worse than others.

Cullen had once recounted the horrors of Kirkwall and his time in the Ferelden Circle of Magi. She shuddered. What a dreadful place it must have been. He had gone through far too much for a man as young as he was. She mentally blessed him for his outstanding service, wondering if she should send him a medal. Or a fruit basket. She made another mental note to ask Josephine what would be most appropriate.

But, back to her clan - even more astonishing was the news that Keeper Deshanna was now in the running to become Wycome's seneschal. Elyra could easily imagine the furious gossiping amongst the Orlesian courtiers. A wild Dalish elf in high standing amongst the human merchants and low nobility? How scandalous!

Deliciously so, Elyra mused. Indeed, she had learned from her foyer into the depths of Orlesian politics that scandal came in all shapes and tastes. Perhaps some would quake in their boots or faint into their cushy chaises at the thought of yet another elf ascending the ladder of authority, but most would delight in the pure wickedness of it.

Elven leadership wasn't without precedent. In Elyra's pastime research on the Hero of Ferelden, she'd learned the elven Grey Warden had briefly been the Arl of Amaranthine. Although, that arrangement was admittedly quite different from what her clan dealt with in Wycome. Ferelden had positively fallen over itself to gift away the arling of traitorous Rendon Howe, whereas her entire clan had to scrape by in Wycome before all the corruption came to light.

Her trail of thought stopped short when she remembered, rather belatedly, that she led what some might call the most influential institution in southern Thedas. She laughed to herself - being the premier example of an elf in charge was sometimes easy to forget when half her time was spent trudging through the countryside, usually filthy and exhausted, trying to solve random problems.

Elyra was bursting with pride. In that moment, she forgot about her bare face. She was fiercely proud to call herself a member of clan Lavellan.

The rest of the reports were simpler in nature - gold cycled through their coffers at a decent pace, the patrols on the Storm Coast dealt with any Qunari turned Tal-Vashoth, pilgrims continued pouring through Skyhold's gates to witness the end of the Inquisition, and elves were disappearing.

Wait. That last one was different. Elyra's heart seemed to convulse as she peeled the last of Leliana's correspondence open once more.

Alienages across Thedas are emptying, even here in Val Royeaux it's become apparent, but my spies report losing track of them once they leave city outskirts. Apparently, they are not traveling on main thoroughfares, nor the Imperial Highway. What is perhaps more concerning: entire Dalish clans have begun disappearing. Take care, Inquisitor - it seems our mutual friend is gathering reinforcements.

She read the note twice, then a third time. There was an iron fist with a tight grip on her heart, squeezing it till it felt fit to burst. She wished it would burst. She was humiliated. She had let him take her face away, naively believing that he would explain himself or at least something, and then he had left. And when she'd found him again, his betrayal became absolute. For all intents and purposes, he was a power-blind supremacist, reaching for godhood just like Corypheus.

And yet, he'd saved her life.

I want you to know that what we had was real.

She gritted her teeth, groaned, and let her head lightly thump against her desk. Keeper Deshanna had always chided Elyra on her romantic inclinations. She had always ignored her, but she supposed this was the fruit of her predictions, miserable as they were. Her emboldened, all-encompassing optimism, seeping into every aspect of her life like a well-meaning poison. And what did it get her? A missing hand, a wounded heart, and an embittered outlook on the future, despite all her success.

In the past three years, she raised an army, a nation, a religion. She defeated a legend and thus became one. She fell deeply in love, she gave away her entirety, and she was utterly convinced he returned that sentiment. And despite that - rather, in spite of that, he left. Again.

She wasn't necessarily heartbroken. That was something she could deal with. She was embarrassed. Despite all she had done, he had walked away as though it was nothing. As though she was nothing. As though all they'd been through, everything they saw and achieved - none of it mattered in his grand scheme. And that infuriated her.

She could feel the tendrils of pride searching for a weak spot in her armor, snakelike and subtle. No, she thought. You will not have me. Her connection to the Fade, strong before the Anchor, was even more sensitive since its abrupt removal. Her left hand itched. She did not look down at the space it no longer occupied.

She felt paper-thin, and could sense the demons lurking. She would not let them in. No matter the cost.

Harillen, harellan, hellathen. Her nose pressed against the cool wood grain, and her eyes blurred with tears. Leave me be, just for a while, she begged.

One more voice whispered: Ir abelas, ma vhenan.

AN: The angst will dissipate, I promise! If you felt strongly about this, good or bad, PM me or review! I'd love to know what you think. This will be a multi-chapter extravaganza, so buckle in and hold onto your butts! Planning to post weekly. We'll see how long that lasts ;)