Chapter 2: Preliminary Negotiations

The next morning Solas rose from his bed early, awoken rather cruelly by the sound of chattering birds in the trees outside. He had been enjoying a particularly intimate dream that resembled the kiss from last night ending under rather different and pleasurable circumstances. Though it took considerable effort, he pushed the dream from his mind and pulled on a robe. Stepping out onto the balcony that overlooked the courtyard, he saw that she was back down in the same spot as last night, peering down at the chess board. Tilting his head, he watched her stare down at the board, touching one of the pieces before changing her mind and moving another instead.

Images of his dream with her mixed with his thoughts. He hadn't wanted to see her again after he left her in the Crossroads. He had avoided her in the Fade when she tried to reach him. Yet here she sat, in his castle, studying a chessboard as if this was their everyday life and not a precursor to negotiations to prevent war and bloodshed. Seeing her so comfortable irked him in many ways, because it made his own sense of comfort around her all the more paramount. He had thought that he would feel otherwise, but her presence soothed and calmed him like a healing balm. It prickled like a burr under his shirt as he tried to parse out why that was. Perhaps it was because now with her here, he knew where she was and what her intentions were. But that was not all of the truth. Those things mattered to him because the part of his heart reserved for her had been fearful and worried. As much as distance was meant to protect her from his doings, having her here calmed him because he knew she was safe. And that peace of mind was not something he had experienced since the dissolution of the Inquisition. Since then he had relied on his spies to provide accounts of her well being, which were only somewhat reliable, he recognized grimly, as they had not been able to inform him of her dealings with the Dalish. There were, of course, the times he found her in the Fade, though he never came close enough for her to speak.

He did not yet know the full extent of her intentions with their planned negotiations, but he could guess well enough based off what he knew of her. She would try to convince him that he should not bring down the Veil. She would try to convince him that her people and this world were worth saving. She would be prepared to meet him in battle, if it came to that. Though he prayed it didn't. It was her fire and spirit that he loved most about her, but those same reasons were also why they were on opposite sides of this fight. She did not understand, could not know, what he had taken from this world by creating the Veil. He had taken everything from the elves through his actions and brought instability to the natural order of the world. And it was getting worse. He had seen that with the spread of red lyrium, the Rifts that had opened after Corypheus's attempt to reach the Fade, and even felt the tremors deep in the earth of the titan's song. Everything was coming undone because of his actions. Only he could set it right again. He could not falter in his mission. Not for love. Not for anything. An alliance to stop the Dalish attacks was small and inconsequential by comparison. But it was within his power to give her, so he would do what he could.

Once dressed, he descended the stairs and entered the courtyard, approaching her quietly so as not to disturb her thoughts. "Good morning. You are up early, I see. May I join you?"

She gestured to the chair and gave him a brief smile in greeting before returning her attention to the board.

"Replaying the game from last night, are you? Looking for alternative strategies?"

"Something like that…" she mused, touching a pawn with a finger before changing her mind and moving a knight instead.

He watched her thinking through her next set of moves for a long moment, remembering well that familiar all-consuming, indomitable focus of hers. "It is said that chess is a small-scale version of war. Does it help you strategize to think of it as such?"

"No. Chess is a game. With pieces, not people. Both sides start out on equal footing, with the same options, the same resources. Then a move is made and all that matters is how one uses the pieces. It is nothing like war. But I suppose there is power in symbolism," she mused.
"Indeed. They are not the same, and yet, you move the pieces to protect your own and move against the opponent's powers. It is not entirely dissimilar."

"Which is probably why I've never been very good at it," she remarked, a crease forming along her brow.

"I find you to be a skilled opponent. One who knows the rules well and uses the pieces to the best of her advantage."

"Your flattery is amusing. But undeserved. I have no heart for chess. In our game we played until only a handful of pieces were left on the board. If this was a full scale model of war, where would we be? Our armies would have decimated one another's. One side would win, but at what cost? What would be left when the blood has soaked into the soil? A king and a few loyal to him? It seems a hollow victory after so much loss." She cleared away another piece from the board, looking somewhat dissatisfied with the remaining options.

"Laying the groundwork for your arguments in our negotiations later today?" he studied the pieces left on the board, trying to find a way for her pieces to win the game.

She chewed her lip, still deep in thought over the remaining pieces. "Perhaps. Or maybe I am lamenting the comparison of a game to war and the importance we place on symbols." Drawing back with a heavy sigh, she knocked her king over, conceding to loss once again.

"You had some options left to you," he offered.

"None that offered anything other than sacrifice. No. The game was lost, one way or another," she said with a sigh. Then, looking up at him, she asked, "I don't suppose it would be too early for breakfast?"

"Of course not. Come," he offered her his hand and she looked at it for a moment, then accepted it and together they made their way back to the dining hall. The previous night's dishes had been cleared away, but the morning was still too early for the kitchen staff to have finished preparing breakfast. The attendant who informed him of this looked most apologetic as he scurried off to find something for them in the meantime.

"Did you sleep well?" she asked.

He choked slightly on his water, but quickly cleared his throat, as images from his dreams returned to his mind. Many of which included her naked and pressed firmly between his body and a very sturdy trellis. "Yes. Did you sleep well?"

She tucked her hair behind her ear and shook her head. "Not really. But that isn't for a lack of trying. My mind just couldn't quite settle down. It's so… strange. Seeing you again." She hurriedly took a drink of water to stop herself from saying more. But she couldn't help watching him to see if he was struck by her presence as she was with his.

A knot clenched in his stomach. Her presence did have an effect on him. That he could not deny.

She drew circles around her goblet's rim with her finger. "I couldn't stop thinking about you," she admitted, picking up the goblet and staring down into it. "I've thought about you so much since I saw you last. Since you left Skyhold, really. I tried seeking you out in the Fade, but I could never reach you. I was afraid I would never see you again. But I don't think a single day has passed when you haven't been on my mind. I wonder, did you ever think of-" She cut herself off, dropping her head in embarrassment as the attendant returned bearing a tray of wheat rolls, honey, butter, and fruit preserves, along with a fresh pitcher of peach juice.

Solas was just as thankful for the interruption. Because the truth was that he had thought of her. Every night before he slept, he thought of her. He remembered her laugh, her smile, the light burning in her eyes, the way the sunlight played with her hair… he remembered all of it. Even in the Fade, he had gone to her, staying just beyond the periphery of her senses, just to feel the presence of her spirit. Taking one of the rolls, still warm to the touch, he said softly, "Yes."

She took in his words in quiet contemplation.

Splitting the roll, he smoothed the apricot preserves over the soft bread and passed it to her. Their fingers touched and Lavellan felt her heart hammer inside her chest at just the slightest graze. Thanking him, she bit into the bread, smiling to herself at the gesture. He remembered how she liked her rolls, even after all this time.

They ate in silence until the rest of the food appeared and with it, the return of The Peace Keeper. Alarion greeted them with a bow of the head before he took his place at the breakfast table.

"You're not even going to say 'good morning', Keeper? What poor manners you have," Lavellan teased with a shake of her head.

Alarion slathered his roll with butter. "If you ever get to be as old as I am, my dear, you will learn that manners are a nicety that is not nearly as important as the pain in one's stomach. I assure you, after my belly is full, I will be nothing but charming and delightful as we begin negotiations. However, until then, nothing shall keep me from my breakfast. Mmm. Delicious," he said, after taking a bite of his roll and downing half his goblet of juice. For an older elf, Alarion ate with considerable gusto, pulling extra helpings onto his plate.

"Did you sleep well, Keeper?" Lavellan asked, plucking grapes off the vine and setting them aside on her plate.

"Yes. The accommodations were most satisfactory. But anything beats sleeping on the ground when you're my age."

"Yes, I remember your complaints the whole way here." He pointed his fork at her like a warning. "Indeed, and as an old man and your elder, you would be wise to listen to me. So that you may live long enough to be old and frail and complain to other elves younger and more foolish than yourself."

"As you say," she said with a smirk, sipping her juice.

Lavellan particularly enjoyed his complaints in regard to his age when considering the other male elf at the table was considerably older.

Slicing into a boiled egg, Alarion glanced up at her and asked. "So how did preliminary negotiations go? I assume the two of you talked." He glanced between the two of them, eyes studying Solas with care, trying to read him.

"Worry not, Keeper. We would not begin the negotiations without you," she said lightly, though she stopped plucking grapes and pulled her hand back into her lap, feeling slightly sick at the thought of what was to come.

"Pity. I had hoped you might've spared me the effort." This earned him a disapproving look, but Lavellan said nothing more, withdrawing into her own private thoughts.

Wiping his mouth with his napkin, Alarion turned to Solas. "How do you wish to be addressed? I have heard many names and titles, but which one do you prefer?"

Solas tore his gaze away from Lavellan, still wondering why she looked so dour. "Your people know me as Fen'Harel. If that is most convenient, you are welcome to use it."

"Then Fen'Harel it shall be, your worship."

"No, please-"

"No, don't, he won't like-" Lavellan stopped herself, a grin pulling at her cheek as they both spoke at the same time.

"Fen'Harel is fine. But there is no need to refer to me with such honorifics."

"Point taken," Alarion said, looking between the two of them with a raised eyebrow. Lavellan was pointedly looking away. "Probably for the best. Fen'Harel is not worshipped as the other gods by Dalish custom. The Dread Wolf is feared more than worshipped."

Solas did not react to his words. "Yet you do not seem to fear me in the slightest. Save, perhaps, for a fear of poisoning."

Alarion pointedly took a bite of toast. "I am an old man. If you are Fen'Harel, there is little you can do to my person that could inspire fear. I was only concerned with my niece's wellbeing yesterday at dinner."

"Niece?" Solas looked between the two.

"Grand-niece, actually," Lavellan commented. "Though he doesn't like that bit. It makes him feel old."

"I know I am old. I do not need a reminder." Alarion waved the thought away. "It was why I volunteered to come and act as Peace Keeper."

"Yes, shockingly very few wanted to come meet Fen'Harel in person," Lavellan said with a dry smile.

Solas nodded slowly, turning back to Alarion. "You must be celebrated for your bravery then. Or do I fail to live up to the Dalish legends?" Solas asked with a smirk.

Alarion leaned back in his seat, appraising Solas with a careful eye. "I know very little. Only that you've shown us remarkable hospitality and have been respectful thus far. But perhaps the negotiations may bring out another side of you. I have lived long enough to know that it does tend to bring out the worst in most, for a successful negotiation often means loss and sacrifice on both sides."

"Indeed."

"Yes. But so far, you have not at all been what I expected." He took a sip of juice. "So far, you have been the man that my niece has depicted in her tales."

"And what has she told you?" A coolness leveled his voice as he looked over at Lavellan, wondering precisely what she had shared.

"She gives a most favorable impression, I assure you. Not at all like what we have been led to believe from the legends of the Dread Wolf. Which is why many of my kin doubted that you were really Fen'Harel. They thought my niece quite mad when she called Fen'Harel 'the most honorable man she has ever met' and it was not until she shared her memories in the Dreamwalk that we started to believe she may be telling the truth of your identity."

"A Dreamwalk?"

"A Dalish ritual involving collective deep meditation to enter the Fade and see into another person's mind," Alarion explained.

"Yes, without it, I would likely have been burned at the stake," she grumbled, picking at the linen napkin in her lap.

"They wouldn't have done that. They would have called you a bare-faced liar and exiled you from the clan. But they wouldn't have killed you."

"Only because of my title as Inquisitor. They could not risk offending me in fear of retaliation from Ferelden and Orlais."

"Did you know that was the risk when you went to the Dalish?" Solas asked, recalling their conversation over the chess match the previous night.

"Yes," she said stubbornly, knowing full well that this revelation did not improve his already low opinion of the Dalish. Or her decision to continue to support them.

"Quite reckless of her, to be honest," Alarion said, pressing his thin lips together in a mixture of disappointment and admiration. "But I admired her courage. Or foolishness. I suppose we shall see what the end result is to make our determination."

"Do you believe the negotiations will be unfavorable? They have yet to begin," Solas mused.

Alarion laughed, surprising Solas and making Lavellan wince. "For you, maybe. But it took considerable negotiations to get to this point. No one thought a negotiation with Fen'Harel even possible, much less an alliance. But my niece refused to give up. She dug her heels in and used every tactic in the book to gather enough votes to grant her the authority to act as The Ambassador for the Council." Alarion looked at her across the table, rubbing his chin, eyes full of melancholy and regret, not pride. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said with a sigh.

Solas glanced between the two of them, trying to understand what lay behind the exchange and Lavellan's reserved silence.

The Peace Keeper stared at her with that regretful sorrow until it became too heavy to bear and he tore his gaze away, settling his weary green eyes on Solas. "I hope she is right about you."

Solas managed a brief smile of acknowledgement, but then his eye was drawn back to her. She bore an expression he knew all too well, as if she alone carried the burden of her people's future on her shoulders. His brow creased and he longed to take her into his arms and offer her what reprieve he could. It pained him to see her suffer as he did. His was a burden he would not wish on anyone, especially not the woman he loved.

"I have found that she is often right about many things. Besides, an alliance benefits us all. I would welcome the chance to see an end to the conflict." He offered a smile to try and raise her spirits, but the Peace Keeper's brow knit together in a deep frown as he looked at his niece.

She, in turn, avoided both their gazes, for her own was far away and lost deep within her own thoughts.

"Are you certain you wish to proceed? It is not too late to turn back," Alarion whispered quietly to her. "No. It is. The path is before me. I will not fear it."

"Well then allow me to carry a healthy dose of fear for us both. As your uncle and your Keeper."

Solas watched the exchange, not quite understanding why peace talks had both so worried when he had demonstrated he was amenable to them. Something else was at play here. Something he could not yet see.

"Then, shall we begin the negotiations, Ambassador?"

She nodded and straightened in her chair. "Yes."

Alarion studied her face for a moment, a forlorn note in his expression, yet he resigned himself to her decision and turned to Solas. "And are you, Fen'Harel, ready to begin negotiations in the hopes of forming an alliance with the Dalish clans, whom the Ambassador represents?"

"Indeed," he said. "Shall I call a scribe to begin the proceedings?"

"There is no need as of yet. I assure you, these old hands are still capable of handling a quill." He pulled up a leather satchel and removed the necessary items to begin taking notes. "Now, in my role as Peace Keeper, my job is to facilitate the negotiations for an alliance. The Ambassador will speak on behalf of the Dalish clans with their authority. Once a decision is reached, the appropriate documents shall be drafted and all parties will add their signatures and sigils." He uncorked the ink bottle and dipped his pen in it. "Whenever you are ready," he said to Lavellan with a heavy sigh.

She looked across the table at Solas, wishing it hadn't come to this before she steeled her heart and began. "Yes. Let us begin. As The Ambassador for the Dalish Council, I represent the clans and act upon their authority. I represent the will of my people and must act as their voice. On behalf of the clans, I request that Fen'Harel leave our lands and never return."

Solas raised an eyebrow. This sounded like more of a threat than a negotiation for an alliance. It was strange for him, sitting on opposite sides of this battle, as it were, when they had previously fought side by side. To have her representing an enemy felt… wrong.

Alarion interjected with a quick aside. "The Dalish custom is for both sides to make their demands in full so the subject and desires are laid out. After they are rejected, then the negotiations will proceed until a middle ground or other arrangement is reached," he explained.

There was something in her eyes, some pain he could not name. But there was determination and that familiar indomitable will as well. "I reject the Dalish Council's request. In turn, I request that the Dalish clans that make up the Council cease their attacks and attempts to sabotage my efforts."

"On behalf of the Dalish Council, I reject your request and wish to instead begin negotiations for an alliance between our people. Do you wish to proceed?"

"Yes. Let us proceed," he waved his hand in a gesture to urge her to continue. All the while, he watched her carefully. There was something going on. She was different, somehow. There was a weight that hung heavily upon her shoulders that he could not see.

She looked into his eyes, searching for something, some familiar note that he was still the man she once knew. If she was wrong… she would doom them all. "The Dalish Council wishes to offer an alliance with Fen'Harel, in faith that moving forward, he and his followers will cease to be a threat to the Dalish people. This alliance would need assurances that Fen'Harel will not turn against the Dalish now or in any future conflict. This alliance would bind Fen'Harel to the Dalish people forevermore. Because the Dalish beliefs of Fen'Harel tell us that he is a known trickster, a liar, a deceiver, and a betrayer of the elven pantheon of gods, he must demonstrate in more than word that he will uphold the alliance. If this demonstration is upheld, the Dalish Council will declare their support of Fen'Harel, cease all engagement in further conflict with Fen'Harel and his people, and will join forces in times of war to defend Fen'Harel and his interests. If the demonstration is not upheld, any alliance will be considered null and void and the Dalish Council will declare open war against Fen'Harel."

Solas was beginning to think that the Dalish didn't quite understand what the terms "negotiate" or "alliance" actually meant. If the Dalish still believed him to be a liar, what could he say that they would accept as truth? Her entire speech was well-rehearsed and she had referred to him in the third person as if he was not there, which gave him the sense that she had not wanted to say any of it; particularly the part about his reputation as a traitor and a liar. Yet he had lied to her, betrayed her, and deceived her. The title was not undeserved. "What form of demonstration beyond agreeing to the accords is required?"

She lifted her eyes to his, biting her lip, filled with a growing sense of despair. He would not agree. She knew that. But a liar's oath needed to be proven and the Dalish would not trust Fen'Harel without proof. Summoning her courage, she told him. "A bonding ceremony. To a Dalish elf. To me."

He felt his heart grow cold in his chest. A shadow fell over his face. A bonding ceremony? What the Dalish now used as their marriage rights. That was what they wanted him to do to demonstrate his good will? Or was this her way of trying to stop him from tearing down the Veil? Had she convinced the Dalish of this or was it her own machinations? Was all of this a ruse to try and stop him? Rage, fresh and hot boiled in his blood. "Is this your plan? To force yourself into my path by using the Dalish as a threat against me? I never thought you capable of such treachery against your own people. I've heard enough. Leave now."

She turned her cheek as if he had physically struck her. Beside her, Alarion's eyes widened in fear and he gripped her sleeve as if to pull her away from Solas's wrath. She wrenched her hand away, fury coursing through her veins. "How dare you! How dare you accuse me of using my own people! I only recite the words that they have approved. Here," she pulled a scroll from Alarion's satchel and threw it in front of him. "I did not do this out of selfish reasons, save the desire to end further bloodshed. To save my people and the man that I-" She caught herself and swallowed the word. "-To save you," she finished, sitting back down in her seat.

Solas did not touch the scroll. He was too angry with her. "And yet it is you to whom the Dalish wish me to bond myself? What a coincidence that would just so happen to serve in your favor."

"Yes, surprisingly the Dalish Keepers, whose duty it is to protect their people from Fen'Harel, were not lining up to offer their eligible women!" she retorted. "So it wasn't a big leap for them to agree to send me. That, and I was the one telling them to trust you. Do you have any idea what the Keepers' faces looked like when I tried to convince them of that? They looked at me like I had an arrow sticking out of my neck! I advocated for you! I fought for this alliance! Not because I want to spy on you or whatever you think, but because I believe in you. As stupid as that makes me!" Lost in her rage, she hadn't noticed her left hand crush the soup spoon.

"Or you took advantage of the situation with the Dalish to orchestrate a meeting and work your way into my castle to try and stop my plans."

"Stop you? I never said I wanted to stop you, Solas. I asked you to let me help you back at the Crossroads. Or did you forget? I am not your enemy here. I only want to help you!"

"Help me? You do not know what will come of my plans."

"I know that it turns out better when we work together! Is that not enough?"

"No! I told you not to follow me down this path. Why did you not listen?"

"Did you think I was going to let you risk your life and not do a damned thing about it? When have I ever stood back and done nothing?"

"You should have stayed away!"

"ENOUGH," Alarion shouted, sending out a spell that pushed them back into their chairs. "The bonding was not her idea. She opposed it, insisting that you would never agree to it. And clearly she was right." Alarion sat back down in his chair with a sigh, rubbing at his temples. He narrowed his eyes at Solas. "But you are not Dalish. You do not understand our ways. The Dread Wolf inspires fear and terror in the hearts of our people. They will not trust anyone claiming to be him or working for him. They will go to war to stop the Dread Wolf from rising to power." He shook his head. "Do you know what it cost her to come to the Dalish, bare-faced and telling tales about how everything we know about the elven gods is wrong? Had she not been able to show proof in her memories, she would have been deemed cursed by the Dread Wolf and killed."

He looked at his niece with such sadness then, wrinkles folding in on themselves. "You should not have done that. There are many who will still believe the Dread Wolf has taken you for his own."

He shook his head again and looked up at Solas with a cold, hard stare. "You do not realize what she has sacrificed by coming here. If you refuse the offer, the Dalish will believe you corrupted her mind and will brand her a traitor and a thrall of Fen'Harel. She will be killed by the people she is trying to protect. If you try to negotiate an alliance without the demonstration of good faith by bonding with her, the Dalish will declare war on Fen'Harel, the liar. If she fails to get you to agree to these terms, her life will be forfeit. You might as well kill her yourself, for there are few places a person can hide where an assassin cannot find them. But I don't think you want that," Alarion finished quietly.

Solas grimaced, feeling himself pinned into a corner and resisting the urge to fight back. Curling his hands into fists in his lap, he rose and stormed out of the room. "I need time to think," was all he said as he passed by them.

Solas found himself back in the courtyard, wandering down the paths, thinking to himself. He passed by the arched trellis alcove that held the chess set she had given him. A clever play on her part, if that was in fact the reason behind it. All her talk of symbolic actions and sacrifice certainly aligned with her points from this morning.

Yet the longer he stared at the board, the more he thought over their previous conversations. She had sat here, playing over her moves again and again, trying to find a different path forward. Yet she had not been able to see one. At a certain point, she was out of options. If what the Peace Keeper was saying was true, then she had put herself in significant danger just to meet with him.

Cursing the Dalish, he turned away from the board and continued through the paths, putting distance between the space and his thoughts of her. Or at least he tried. It was not so easy. He recalled her fear, the desperation in her voice when she tried to explain to him that she had to fight for her people because she believed in him. Had it all been an act to lay the foundation for her negotiation tactics? Or had there been something else at play? She hadn't expected his kiss. Yet once the surprise had dissipated, she kissed him back. And then when he pulled back to apologize for his rashness, she asked him to kiss her again. Then she had broken away and asked him for forgiveness. That in itself was strange.

He ruminated over her words and actions in his mind, using this new context to try and parse out her feelings and intentions. Playing the chess match and their conversations over and over in his mind, he tried to make sense of it.

"You appear to be deep in thought. Might I offer some advice?" Alarion approached him with a degree of caution.

"I suspect you shall do so regardless of my response," Solas replied flatly.

Alarion chuckled. "Ah, yes, I suppose you are right. I feel I must interject on my niece's behalf."

"You may find she is quite adept at doing that all on her own."

Alarion shrugged, for he could not argue that point. "Yes, indeed. Though you may find that her heart is always in the right place."

"And yet her person is constantly in the wrong place. It is her mind that seems to have escaped her this time."

"I fear it is her heart that has brought her here. She loves her people. She feels she must do right by them even to her own detriment."

Solas made a dismissive sound, too angry with the Dalish to put his hate into words.

Alarion tilted his head, examining a bush of fairybell flowers. "Did you know that nearly half of all Dalish bondings are arranged? It is peculiar to outsiders, but quite common amongst our people." He paused, inspecting a bloom with feigned interest. "It is done often to seal alliances between clans, increase the birthrate, or to mix different bloodlines. I wonder then, if it would surprise you to know that this is not the first time an arrangement has been made on my niece's behalf."

Solas raised his head and peered over at the wrinkled elf.

"Ah, she has not told you that before, I see. It was many years ago. Worry not, she was not bonded to the man her father chose for her. She ran to her clan's Keeper and begged her to send her away. You must understand, as the clan's First, she was supposed to be the next Keeper. Leaving of her own volition would have meant permanent exile. But the Keeper sent her away to act as a liaison and spy for the clan. A kindness, for it meant that she did not have to sacrifice her clan and family to disobey tradition. That is why it is so curious that she is fighting so hard for this arrangement. I doubt there is anything that could force her to be here if she did not want to be."

Solas had not known this. She had never told him of a prior engagement.

Alarion sighed. "I thought I might never see her again. Low and behold, she makes a name for herself and earns titles like 'Inquisitor' that garner her respect throughout Thedas. She saves the world. And then one day, she disbands a force that rivals Ferelden and Orlais, and a few months later she summons the Council of Clans for an important revelation. Spewing a story of madness that involves befriending Fen'Harel, meeting gods, fighting armies, and learning a terrible truth about our history. Well, for most Keepers, it is all that we feared: the Dread Wolf has taken her mind. And then she shows us her memories. An elf, fighting by her side against false gods and demons. One who can take away the vallaslin from her face. A mysterious man who leaves after the defeat of Corypheus only to resurface years later. That was the part I found most interesting."

Alarion plucked a small flower from the planter between them. "You led the Qunari to her. Trusted her to do what was necessary and follow the pathways through the eluvians and stop the Viddasala. You could have told her directly, but you didn't. You left her with the choice. Strange, considering if you had told her she likely would have believed you given your history. But you let her deal with the problem herself. And you let her see a part of your own history as well. And so she unraveled the clues and fought her way to you and the Viddasala. Even though the mark on her hand was killing her."

He shook his head, touching the delicate petals in his hand. "That was hard to watch. Even if we had not been close in recent years, to watch her pulled into the air and flung about like a rag roll… I wonder if she knew she was going to die in that strange place? The fear in her eyes; you must have seen it. Yet she found you." He twisted the flower in his fingers.

"I'm not sure if you've ever been in a Dreamwalk before, but because the ritual connects to the person whose memories you enter, it's different from observing a normal memory in the Fade. You can feel the person's emotions, sense everything that they do. I wonder if it surprises you to know that when she saw you it was not fear she felt. It was relief. Relief to know that you were alive, I suspect. And then you told her what you had planned and took her arm."

Alarion plucked off one of the petals. "What struck me most about the exchange was your demeanor. Dalish legends depict Fen'Harel as a trickster, a betrayer, and a liar. A god to be avoided at all costs. But contrary to expectation, it was not with boastful pride or cunning written across your face as you revealed your true intentions. It was sorrow and regret. I did not expect that from a god, much less Fen'Harel. And when you turned her arm to stone, you kissed her. Then said you would never forget her and walked away as if it tore out your very heart to do so." Alarion plucked the remaining petals and let them fall away. "While some of the other Dalish may believe everything else was a means to manipulate her, even the most stubborn would have trouble seeing that goodbye and still believing your love for her to be false." Alarion flicked the rest of the flower away and settled his eyes on the man beside him. "I may be a foolhardy old man, but I know love when I see it. And you love her still. And I dare say she loves you as well."

"I doubt that is the truth," Solas said, recalling her apology after their kiss and her confusion.

"If it was anything less, I do not believe it would have survived amputation. I am curious though. You had the eluvians at your disposal. You could have found her and saved her and told her nothing of your plans. Yet you did not. You led her down a path so that if she was clever, she could determine the truth for herself, so that by the time she found you, she would believe you when you told her what you had planned. I can imagine several possibilities as to why you might do that. One is that you wanted her to stop the Qunari invasion plans. Another is because you knew the mark on her hand was killing her. And you could not bear to leave her to that fate, for it was your mistake. And perhaps, I believe you felt you owed her as well, after all, it was your failure with the orb that caused the Breach and the resulting fallout. Then you told her about your plans to bring down the Veil and restore what was. That is strangest still. Why bother telling her at all? I can think of only three reasons. The first is that you thought she would die and take your plans to the grave. But then you removed the mark that was killing her. So I do not believe that is the reason. The other two are more likely. Either you told her because you wanted her to stop you or because you wanted her to help you."

"There is a much simpler reason. I felt she deserved the truth," Solas offered, his face stony and reserved.

"Ah, yes. There is that. Not something to be discounted, certainly. Truth is often hard to swallow. Yet she believed you, even when the truths revealed your lies and betrayals. I must admit, I feared for her a great deal when she revealed her love for you in the Dreamwalk. The Dalish would have written her off as mad or corrupted by the Dread Wolf's influence had you not returned her feelings. I believe that was what convinced the Dalish to send her to you. They believe she may be able to help. In what ways, even I am uncertain. But together you faced many difficult decisions and fought against impossible odds. Perhaps it is fate that threw her into your path."

"It is her meddling that has sent her into my path this time."

Alarion shrugged. "Love is stubborn. As is one's sense of obligation. She knew the risks of coming to the Dalish. Convincing the Keepers all that they know of you is false was always an impossible task. That didn't stop her. Did you think that she would stay away?"

"It would have been better if she had."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. The Dalish would never have considered an alliance without her. We would fight you. Many would die, on both sides. I suppose the only question left to us is, what do you want moving forward? Peace between the elves may be of little matter to you. But to have her at your side… Maybe the reason you told her the truth is because you need her." Alarion offered him a wizened look.

"I would not have her walk my path," Solas said coldly.

"No. We do not wish to see the ones we love in peril. But rarely do we get to choose our own paths. Rarer still are the ones who choose peril for the ones they love. She came this far. I doubt you will understand fully the impact of her actions to get to this point, but she does. She knows there is no turning back from this path. She still chose to walk down it."

"She should not have done so. She risks much on faith. She does not know me or what is to come. She should have stayed away."

"Yes. She knows that though. She wonders even now if her faith in you is misplaced. I hope it is not." Alarion bowed his head in respect and left the courtyard.

Solas straightened his back and mulled over his thoughts, watching the scenery without really taking any of it in. With a heavy sigh, he resigned himself to another conversation with her. He had to know what her plans were.

Solas had her escorted to his study by an attendant. When the attendant left, a tense silence filled the room. Solas turned away from the window, meeting her narrowed eyes with a calculated, appraising look. "I want the truth. Why are you here?" he asked, his voice cold.

She fought the urge to cross her arms over her chest; the gesture had been one of habit, but was now awkward with the prosthetic arm. "I have told you the truth, Solas. None of it has been a lie. I came to negotiate an alliance with you and the Dalish."

"Why bother? It seems like the Dalish would hardly believe you at your word. They will not change their minds about Fen'Harel. All that you are doing is putting a target on your back."

She raised her chin in defiance. "You think so little of the Dalish. As if our culture and beliefs are backwards to spite you. Our history was taken from us. I saw the truth of your history and what you did to stop the Evanuris and free the enslaved. I changed my mind about the Dread Wolf. Why can't they? Wouldn't you prefer to have the elves as allies? Even if we are not your people, we are still descended from them. I may not be able to convince all in the end, I am not fool enough to believe that, but don't they have a right to know the truth?"

"And what truth is that? The history you want to believe? What about the facts that you know? My actions and my words. I lied to you. I betrayed you. I am the Dread Wolf that tricked the Evanuris and tore apart the world. Have you considered that?"

She did not flinch at his words, though she knew he was trying to hurt her. "I gave them what I knew. The decision and interpretation is theirs. I know you betrayed me. I know you lied to me. That doesn't matter to me."

"Shouldn't it?"

"Let me ask you a question then. Why did you side with us when Corypheus tore open the Breach? You could have reclaimed the orb or helped him rip apart the Veil and pull down the Fade. But you didn't. Why?"

Her questioning perplexed him. Why this question? "Because Corypheus sought to destroy the Veil by tearing it apart. He would have destroyed the Fade to reach his goal. I was too weak to fight him alone. I chose you and the others as the best choice for closing the Breach and repairing the damage."

She bit her lip and took a steadying breath. "And the night you took my vallaslin away. You said you wanted to tell me the truth before that. Do you remember?"

He did. The look on her face after he shattered her heart was burned into him like a brand.

"You said you brought me there because you wished to tell me the truth. Did you mean to tell me your plans and who you really were then?" Her sharp eyes cut into him.

A lump of shame formed in his throat. That had been his intention. "Yes."

"But you didn't. Why not?"

He could not swallow his shame. He could not find the words. He shook his head, silently begging her not to ask this of him.

"Why not?" she repeated, storming up to him. She wanted answers. If he was going to demand honesty and answers from her, she would demand the same. "Did you think I would not understand? After my entire clan was nearly wiped out? After what I did at Redcliffe? After all we had fought through together? Had I not proven myself then? Or did you just want to hurt me?"

"No, I did not want to hurt you. But there was no way to make you understand. All of it was my fault. Everything with Corypheus and the Breach was due to my failings. The anchor passed to you because I was too weak to use the orb. And it was killing you."

"You did hurt me," she spat venomously through gritted teeth. "You didn't trust me, so you broke my heart and left me bare-faced and ashamed! Do not pretend like what you did was some noble sacrifice for my sake!"

"It was a sacrifice! I had to sacrifice you! Don't you see that? I walk the Din'anshiral. I had to let you go. It was the only way to avoid you sharing my fate! I alone should pay the price. I would not have you walk it beside me."

"Why not? Why should you have to bear that alone? Or did you forget that I too held the weight of the world upon my shoulders? You fought at my side to restore this world, why should I not stand at your side and help you restore yours?"

"Because you should not bear the cost."

"I already bear the cost! I am a Dalish elf, Solas. My culture, my people, everything we have is but a pittance of what we once had. We lost everything. All of who we are was taken from us. Connections to the Fade, immortality, language, our own history… And we have been hunted and slain like rabid wolves ever since as we scramble to keep what little is left. Do not tell me I have no right to fight for what has been lost."

Her words cut him deeply. He had known his actions led the Dalish to be what they are today, but she had lived it. Again, she suffered for his failures. "I-"

"-No! No, you listen to me, Solas. I will not back down from this fight. I want to be at your side, I want to fight this with you. And I think you need help. You've done this before on your own, but you shouldn't be alone in this. Let me help. If the world can be restored, if we can save your people, I want to help. I do not think you wish to bring this world to ruin. I think you want to restore it to what it once was and bring back harmony between the waking world and the Fade. I still believe you are good and decent and honorable. That is the man that I knew and I would follow him even if the odds were impossible. If you are still that man, then tell me. And if you are not, then send me away. But if you are still the man I once knew and loved, I will not leave you to fight this battle alone."

With a slash of his arm the items on the top of his desk went flying off. Papers fluttered down, books crashed to the floor, and a bottle of ink shattered. She gave a start and then he was bearing down upon her and she thought for a moment she had pushed him too far. She shuffled back until she bumped into the desk and then his hands were on her, gripping her at the waist and boosting her onto the desk. He lifted her chin, searching those sharp, piercing eyes. Lowering his head, he kissed her. She froze for a moment, until she realized what was happening and then she kissed him back. His other hand slid up her thigh and she parted her knees to allow him to come closer. He did, deepening the kiss as he did so. Kissing the sweetness of those lips and the fire in her words, he felt the old passion relit, wanting more of her.

She went to put her hand behind her as he pressed the kiss, tilting her body back, but it was the left hand. The polished wood of the prosthetic limb slipped on the surface of the desk and she would have landed rather badly on her side, had Solas not reacted in time and grabbed her. As if it had been intentional, he pulled her close to his chest and used his other hand to draw her leg around him. She wrapped her legs around him and he righted her back at the edge of the desk so she was sitting again, albeit a little straighter this time. He bent over her, kissing along her jawline and her ear and down to her neck. A practiced hand slid down her collarbone, grazing lightly over her tunic and around the curve of her breast. Releasing him from her grip, she pushed back against his chest and he stepped away, opening his eyes to look down at hers. They were filled once more with regret. "No. Solas, please. I need an answer. You cannot just kiss me. I have to know."

Taking her hand in his, he held it over his heart and gazed into her eyes. "I am the same man I have always been. But I am more. It is difficult to explain, but I promise you I will try my best and show you in time. For now, you have my word."

She felt the beat of his heart in his chest. Was it true? Was he still himself? If so, how could she know? She looked up into his eyes, searching for certainty she did not feel. He was different. This man was a commander, a leader, a being of great power. Yet it was possible he was still the same person, of the same character and quality in a role she had not seen him in before. It would be a learning process, she decided. There could be no immediate certainty.

He smoothed her worried brow, knowing it would take time for her to come to know him as he was now. Everything had changed in the years since they had last been together. He was himself again, not quite wholly as of yet, but underneath he was still the man she knew. He would prove it to her.

She opened her lips, but then closed them again, feeling silly. But she had to ask. She had to know. "Do you still care for me, Solas?"

He smiled and warmth spread throughout her body. "Of course, I do, vhenan. You are still my heart. My love for you has remained," he told her, his voice soft and gentle as he caressed her cheek with his thumb. "Do you still care for me?"

She met his gaze. "Yes. I never stopped loving you, Solas. You are still ma vhenan." A part of her had been ashamed for so long for not letting him go after all this time, but it was the truth. She had never been able to release the hope that one day he might come back into her life.

Solas's chest rose in relief, heart swelling with joy that she still held him in her heart. Lifting her chin, he kissed her again, holding her with tender care as he relished the taste of her lips and the warmth of her hand in his. The kiss was long, slow, and unhurried.

When they broke away, her smile faded, eyebrows drawing together in concern. "Will you consider the bonding ceremony?"

His expression hardened, but his grip on her hand remained firm. "If that is what you want. As much as I wish circumstances were different and I could keep you far away and safe, I will not deny your offer to aid me and form an alliance with the Dalish. But I will not have you bond yourself to me if that is not your desire."

A blush colored her cheeks as she admitted, "You are the only person I have ever wanted to perform a bonding with, Solas. Although, I must admit the circumstances surrounding the request were not how I envisioned them."

He smiled. "And how did you envision it, may I ask?"

Her blush deepened and she shook her head. "Oh, no, it seems so silly now. And rather fanciful. No, I think it would probably be best if I kept it to myself."

"Hm. I shall consider it. There is likely more we should both speak of before we reach an agreement. I am unfamiliar with Dalish customs, and I suspect we both have long, overdue conversations that will need to take place as well. But for now, ma vhenan," he paused, tucking her hair behind her pointed ear and tracing a finger down her jawline. "I am grateful for this moment."