Chapter 4 – And Then There Were Nightmares

Solas struggled to sleep soundly. Lately the Fade was not as welcoming to him –fears could easily become as real as reality itself in the Fade. Solas had his own fears, fears of failure, fears of being powerless again, fears of chains on his flesh, fears of…

Vhenan…

Solas found himself staring at his beloved. The Inquisitor struggled to stay standing as the mark in her hand flashed ominously. The magic in it had built up so much and every spark that fell from it sent her body spasming with pain. She stared at him with pain in her eyes, but it was more than just physical pain. The mark flared and burned so brightly that he was nearly blinded. Lavellan screamed.

He ran to her side as the mark sent veins of magic up her body like a burning green wildfire. He stared at her in horror as the magic ate through her very being. She lit up like a bright veilfire torch. He tried to reach out for her, tried to grab her, call magic to himself to save her – anything.

"Vhenan!" Solas called out.

Lavellan shrieked as her body burned away. Pieces of her tore away like paper and scattered in the air in a gust of wind. Only her spirit was left. He couldn't breathe as he stared at her; With transparent green 'skin' made of nothing more than light, she trembled and stared back at him with wide eyes.

"No… no… no." He tried to touch her, but instead he felt slips of magic pass through his hands. She was so precious to him, even as a spirit. He wanted to cradle her, to whisper she would be okay. Instead he stared at her and felt trapped, speechless.

Her left hand crackled and the mark tore through, spilling sickly green light from her fragile form. He couldn't fathom this happening; The mark was a death sentence, but that power shouldn't extend into the Fade.

The spirit of the Inquisitor stared at him while the mark flared again. The light blinded him and he drew his face away. The spirit screamed and it was all he could hear, he felt it echoing in his skull and reverberating through his bones. He turned back to see her burst into an explosion of green light. The air churned around him and he felt whispers of her touch on his skin. There was nothing left of her but his memories.

"NO!"

He cried.

Solas woke up in a cold sweat with his eyes wide open. It was just a dream, a nightmare. His heart was racing and his mouth felt dry as a desert. His fingers twitched against the sheets. He tried to take deep even breaths. Staring at the ceiling helped a bit, and he rubbed his forehead before closing his eyes again.

He knew that mark would kill her. The magic of his foci was too much for a mortal body to contain. It was supposed to kill Corypheus, but instead it would kill her. Even if she lived out her entire life, it was a blip in time in comparison to his own. Their love was tragic. It was never meant to be. He still loved her and he wouldn't wish pain upon her, death upon her.

Solas sat up with an exhalation of air and stared out in the darkened room, blinking back the visions that seemed to still swim in his mind. He furrowed his brow and wondered what he could do to make sure this never happened. Even if he was ending the world, even if everyone of the mortals died, their spirits were precious. Lavellan was just like the rest of them, and they deserved mercy and compassion. Solas was not cruel. He was not uncaring; He wanted them all to live what lives they could while their time was short.

Shortened.

In Skyhold, Inquisitor Lavellan was working late into the night. Her candles had burned low, wax dripping down forming a little puddle on her desk. She crossed the floor of her quarters and grabbed a handful of reports left on her desk.

"What do you have for me Charter?", she said to the darkened room. She may be overtired and sleeping poorly, but she could get some more work done while her eyes still could stay open. She flipped through the documents written by her scouts in the field. She hoped beyond hope that they'd turn up some traces of Solas. Leliana had told her there was no sign of him and it seemed he was purposefully avoiding the Inquisition scouts, wherever he was. She sighed softly and rubbed at the corner of her eye, trying to hold back a yawn that threatened to escape her lips.

There were nightmares of the past, of the present, of the future. Lavellan was avoiding sleeping because she felt safer in this screwed up world than she did in the Fade right now. She'd slept less in the past few years than in her entire life, and surely that wasn't doing her body any favors. The sleep deprivation of months, years even, was adding up and she was making mistakes so often that she was a little worried they might soon be fatal. One wrong instance in battle could be the end of her. She huffed out a breath and tried to focus on the words on the pages, but her vision was blurry and the words were hard to concentrate on. She yawned and blinked sleepily but resisted the urge to climb into her bed, a few scant feet away and looking particularly inviting. She glanced at it with a frown, not wanting to enjoy the soft goose down or plush pillows. Despite herself, her mind drifted to memories of the exploratory and heated moments in that bed with a certain elf, of the soft kisses and large warm hands on her skin. She shook her head, as if dazed and in a dream and hoping to chase those memories away.

I need a distraction… Lavellan turned toward her chair with a pile of papers in her hands.

Suddenly, her mark flared an angry bright green. She cried out and nearly fell from the intensity of the pain tearing through her. The flash of light illuminated the room and it resembled the Fade for just a brief moment. Tears stung her eyes and braced herself against the back of her chair. She breathed as slowly as she could manage, trying to focus past the pain. This was nothing new.

Over the past few weeks, the mark was flaring more often. Whenever it crackled to life it felt like her hand was being set on fire. Usually, it pulsed with a slow radiating pain that she could almost forget about, almost.

Another flare up of both pain and light sent her reeling. Lavellan bit down hard on her cheek and tasted the copper hints of blood. She nearly fell, grasping the chair as if she were clinging to debris in hopes of not drowning.

"Nn..Ahh!"

She managed to push off the chair and stumble to her bed. A sharp lance of pain tore up her spine and she gasped. "Fuck!" She spat as she pushed herself face down into her pillows. It was intense and all she could focus on, swallowing back the blood and trying to ride out the pain that came in waves, up her back and up her arm. If it hadn't been so intense, she'd probably laugh at the absurdity of it all. Instead, she choked on her tears and after a time her pain dulled to an ever-present throbbing in her lower back and a singeing heat in her left hand. At some point she fell asleep.

The Inquisitor woke to birdsong and bright skies lighting up her bedroom through her large balcony windows. Her body was contorted into a strange position, partially wrapped in her blankets and hanging off the edge of the bed. She hissed at the brightness, the sound, and felt a dull ache in her back. She was not thrilled with the lasting pain, but was glad she managed a dreamless sleep. It was hardly refreshing though, and she felt like she'd been trampled by a herd of halla. It took longer than usual for her to drag herself to her feet.

Lavellan undressed from the wrinkled clothes that she had fallen asleep wearing. All of her movements were slow and careful as she pulled on her smalls. She sucked in a sharp breath as a painful twinge in her back made twisting harder. Her chest wrap took longer and made her strain. Her fingers slowly wrapped the fabric around her chest and breasts, but even that seemed to hurt just a bit. She winced. Everything felt just too sensitive, too sharp, as if just the barest gentle touch was a knife blade to her flesh. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she began to don the rest of her day's wardrobe. She was slow to lace things, slow to pull fabric over her head, slow to slide her legs into her trousers. Her boots were last and she grimaced as she bent to put them on. That pain in her back objected and she gasped before recomposing herself.

She felt like nug shit. "Great… just great.", she said with a irritated tone. It was time to get to work, but first: Breakfast.

The inquisitor usually took her breakfast to go, or ate with Josephine while receiving her reports for the day. Today, she opted to eat with her friend and advisor. She walked to the office door and was about to knock when Josephine opened the door with a bright smile, "Good morning Inquisitor!" she said cheerily. Josephine's mood lately had been greatly lifted by the defeat of Corypheus. Life was good, her family's legacy was restored, and the Inquisitor had saved the world. She had an integral hand in making all of that happen. Lavellan was not in a cheery mood but seeing her friend smile to brightly pulled her from the dark grumpy place she had been and managed to bring a smile to her lips. "Good morning" she said with a little smirk.

The smell of coffee and tea floated through the doorway to her nose. "Started early?", she asked Josephine with a questioning look. Josephine smirked a little bit and opened the door wide for her friend to enter, "No, you're just late."

"You don't look like you've slept much, tea?" Josephine waved her inside. Lavellan nodded, to both the lack of sleep and the offer of tea. Soon a kitchen servant brought a tray with bread, fruit, sausage, porridge, and soft-boiled eggs. Josephine took a breakfast of freshly cut fruit, warm bread and butter, and a small bowl of spiced porridge. Lavellan looked over the choices. The scent of the meat made her stomach reel and was worrisome enough she wondered if it perhaps had spoiled. She wrinkled her nose and took a sip of tea. She decided that a light breakfast might be best. Her hands reached for a warm roll of bread.

"There is further word from Wycome and Halamshiral, requests for your aid or support." She chewed on the bread thoughtfully as Josephine spoke. "Varric has some concerns about Kirkwall and is eager to return home…" The inquisitor nodded with her mouth full of bread. She had always known that Varric was very attached to that city, and it did need help rebuilding after the attack by the Arishok, after the explosion, after… Well, that was his story to tell – but she understood his want to return.

Lavellan let her mind drift to her own people and her former home with her clan. They needed her, yes – all elves were precious lives to be treasured because there were so few of them left; And the Dalish were even fewer in numbers. There were so few that practiced the old ways. Solas spoke angrily of them. He said that the Dalish were misguided and would never listen to the truth, they'd "mock a flat-ear and his stories". It had sounded like he spoke from experience.

Her heart constricted as she remembered his words, his hands, his magic taking her Vallaslin. Her skin was bare now, she felt a pang of regret and sadness at her actions and the truth of it all. Now her people wouldn't trust her, because of her face. They were proud of their vallaslin and used it to signify who they were and where they came from. It was just another thing the Dalish got wrong. They were just foolish children fumbling around trying to tell stories they had long since forgotten. She finished her bread and scooped a bit of porridge into a bowl for herself. It smelled nice, with hints of cinnamon and cardamom. She ate a spoonful and was happy for the pleasant warmth.

Josephine stared into her tea cup for a moment, pursing her lips and thinking how to broach the next topic for discussion. She was unsure how aware the Inquisitor was to the dealings of her friends. Josephine had spoken with each of them at length about their plans. It was her job to make sure there were seamless transitions, that everyone that needed to be informed was informed. She arranged everything. Varric wasn't the only person that looked back to their home and saw a need to return, to make things better. It wasn't easy to say goodbye.

"Also… Dorian is leaving soon for Tevinter."

She froze. "What?"