The screech was deafening, shaking the ground, appearing to knock everyone except the qunari off their feet. Solas pushed himself back up, ears ringing loudly, and watched the burning remnant of Hakkon Wintersbreath undulate in his tortuous death throws. The dragon reared up one final time before toppling backward, hitting the icy rock wall as the former god made his final, rapid descent into the freezing waters below.
This was hardly the first dragon they had toppled as a fighting force, yet this victory held none of the cheers or relieved laughter of the others. Instead, the guard clumped together, checking over one another's limbs, speaking in hushed tones. Many had fallen during this fight, and those corpses were approached slowly, probed with a question they all knew the answer to. Every soldier has known the ache of watching a comrade fall in battle. The veterans could tell you stories to make your blood run cold of the horrors of wars fought and the methods by which their friends were dispatched. But even the most seasoned in the ranks could not prepare for the destruction Hakkon unleashed. The unfamiliar believe dragons to all breath fire. Fire does terrible things to a body, melts the flesh to the bone and burns the hair with a sickly sweet scent you can never shake. Yet ice is more terrible yet. They'd watched the first victim in horror, the flash freeze happening so quickly they could still witness his terrified eyes rolling beneath the thick ice, searching for help that could not possibly come swiftly enough. Mouth hung open in a silent scream as the ice slowly crushed the air from his lungs, until the light finally faded from his eyes. After witnessing that agony, every swift rush of air brought a panic into their hearts they could not possibly tamp down. Evelyn swearing as she shouted for them to not break formation. But how could these frightened souls stand in a line and face down that end?
Evelyn now lingered at the edge of the field, staring off toward the distant bleak horizon, her hands shaking ever so slightly. Solas strode across to her, taking her forearm in his hand and she shook him off. "No," she said. "Not yet. I can't face them yet."
"All right," he backed off from her. "Would you like me to lead them back to the camp?"
She nodded. "And then pack up the camp. I'm not spending another night in this cursed place."
They rode through the night in stunned silence, the others bearing the haunted expression of souls who have seen what can never be unseen. When Skyhold finally appeared in the distance, gleaming in the evening sun, Evelyn paused and then leaned forward heavily, her head touching the neck of her horse. She sat, hand distractedly patting the beast before she straightened. If this strange display bothered her party, none betrayed this. They wearily followed the line, crossing the bridge into Skyhold's courtyard, the shouts welcoming their return stopping shortly when they saw how few they numbered.
Evelyn slid from her mount and raised a hand to those who rushed toward her, silencing their reports. She instead turned her sights to Solas, who followed without question. He paused in the corridor and spoke in a low voice to two of the young girls who normally attended to Evelyn's quarters, then followed her up the stairs. She sat gingerly on the edge of her bed, perfectly upright, hands folded in her lap as he dragged the heavy tub from the corner. There was a light knock from the lower level. Solas stepped quickly down the stair, pleased to discover the girls had left the buckets without lingering to gawk.
"I... I wasn't expecting for it to be so..." she made a fluttery motion with her fingers.
"It was much more than I believe either of us bargained for." Solas poured one of the buckets into the tub, the steam rising up into the chill air.
"I suppose I thought nothing could surprise me, not any longer. Not after tainted templars and darkspawn magisters come back from the dead."
"I think that what we encountered, all of it, was much more unnerving than either of those abominations." Solas deftly rolled up one sleeve with quick fingers before dipping the now-bared arm into the water. He shook the excess droplets from his hand and motioned for Evelyn.
She stood mechanically, mind still a million miles from where they stood. "I was so confident. I thought ballistas and arrows were some sort of match for... but they weren't. They weren't. We very nearly died. All of us."
He unbuttoned the front of her riding jacket, removing it and the undervest and throwing them into a heap several feet from the tub. "Lift your arms." She obeyed, and he slid her thin linen shirt off, wincing when he saw the deep purple and brown bruise spreading across her ribcage. She glanced down, following his gaze.
"Oh."
He bent to unlace her boots. "It will be fine. The bath will help." Holding both of her hands in his, he helped her step into the tub, rolling up his other sleeve as she sank into the hot water.
Evelyn splayed her fingers on the surface, just breaking the tension there. "Riordan was only seventeen, you know."
Solas sat beside the tub, folding his arms on the edge. "I did not know that. He was very young."
"He was in love... well, I don't know if it was love, exactly. But he was sweet on Naiva."
"The scout?"
She nodded, pushing her hands past the surface's thin membrane, submerging her fingers. "And now he's dead. Frozen in place. His last thoughts wondering why I did nothing to save him."
Solas rested his chin on his folded arms. "You did everything you could, vhen'an. I dare say many more would have died if not for your efforts."
"Then why am I sitting here thinking of the ones that fell? Why am I not able to celebrate those I saved? Why do I only see Riordan's face, frozen and dying?" She crumpled forward, folding into a ball.
Solas reached out to push her hair behind her shoulders, out of her face. "You are a good leader, that is why you feel the loss of every person so profoundly. This is why they follow you, above all else. You have compassion, a quality that is sorely lacking in many who command."
"If that's all true, then why, even when I've lost so many, is my first thought always of you? Every time I saw another struck down, I looked for you. Every time I had a moment to breathe, I used that breath to ensure you still stood. What kind of a leader does that make me?"
"A human one," he said softly. "Here." He reached past her legs to retrieve the thick sponge that floated there. "These are the worries that plague every person forced into a position of power. There is nothing wrong about feeling this way." The sponge rested on her shoulder now, his fingers squeezing warm water over her flesh.
"Whether or not there's anything wrong with it, I'd rather not feel this way."
"I think that is also a common theme." Another cascade of water on her back as he held the length of her hair up and out of the way. "Doubt, worry, guilt, fear."
"These past few days have had plenty of that."
"Yes, the past few days have been trying, to say the least."
"Solas," she pushed herself back against the end of the tub as he held the sponge aloft. "I'm trying to explain that things between us are shifting, changing."
"I see... would you rather I leave?"
"No! No," she rubbed her face with her hands, then hugged her knees again. "This has all been wonderful, exciting... but it's becoming more real."
The word sat like a stone in his stomach. "Real?" he echoed.
"I find myself now having to consider all the very real ways this might end. Seeing the dragon, facing down a god, knowing what lay ahead, seeing Ameridan and Telana and knowing their fates... it all comes back to the damned book."
"That damned book," he smiled wryly.
"Stories have endings, Solas."
"They do, but do we have to write the ending just yet?"
"We don't, but I also don't know how many heartbreaking chapters I can endure right now."
He squeezed the water out of the sponge and made to place it on the edge of the tub when she grabbed his hand by the wrist.
"I need this to be happy, for as long as it can be. Give me something I can remember and cherish, when there's nothing else left." She pulled his wrist closer, shoving hand and sponge into the water between her knees.
Solas frowned. "Are you certain? After today I would expect..."
"Solas, please. For just one night, stop talking."
The knocking woke him, louder, more insistent than the timid sounds her usual attendants made. Beside him, Evelyn slept soundly on her stomach, still-damp hair tangled on the pillows. The knock sounded again, with someone trying the knob. Solas slipped silently from the bed and pulled on his breeches, cautiously making his way down to unlock the door.
"Master Solas," Josephine adjusted her collar. "Is Lady Trevelyan..."
"She is sleeping, something she very much needs. Can this wait?"
"I'm afraid it cannot. I had tried to tell her when she arrived, but she was quite insistent on not being bothered." Josephine nervously looked behind her in the hall. "She has a guest, one who is anxious to see her. When she wakes, if you could please tell her... if you could tell her Warren is awaiting an audience."
"Warren... is awaiting... an audience," he repeated slowly.
"He was very specific in how to tell her. Please."
Solas found Evelyn sitting up in the bed, rubbing at her eyes. "Were you talking to someone?"
"It was Josephine. She had a message for you, one that I need to repeat to you."
Evelyn gave him a skeptical look.
"Warren is awaiting an audience."
Her face immediately registered wide-eyed shock and she shot from the bed to the stairs before skidding to a stop, clearly realizing she was naked. She sprinted to the other side of the room, holding her side gingerly, and began rifling through her drawers.
Solas sank into a seated position. His heart thudded, dull and painful, as if it already knew what this meant. "I know you said your father had someone particular in mind. I just was not aware it was someone you knew."
"What?" she stared at him wide-eyed, pulling her hair back into a messy ponytail. Then the realization dawned, mouth gaping open. "Oh Solas," she sighed heavily, allowing how weary she was to once again overtake her face. "Warren is my fucking brother."