CHAPTER 6
Professor Solas Fen'Harel was known across the University as a true interdisciplinary. He had the type of mind that consumed everything from history to theoretical physics with great curiosity. This insatiable drive to take things apart and put them back together again in unexpected ways had made him a brilliant scholar, and an even better doctor. Art, he was convinced, had made him a great diagnostician. He had insisted on taking several introductory painting and drawing classes, and even a semester of ceramics. Learning to work with his hands and the focus required, had made him adept at noticing small details his colleagues brushed aside.
The desire to keep his skills sharp is why Solas made a point to attend as many of the university gallery openings as possible. As one of the top colleges for almost every discipline, the work was always substantial. That, and Solas wished that his medical students would be as willing to experiment and embrace ambiguity with the same enthusiasm the art students did. He found spending time amongst their frenetic energy renewing.
He had anticipated that he might run into Dr. Ellana Lavellan that evening, but was determined to avoid the young scholar. Leliana had kept him updated over the last month about the woman's coming and goings-in more detail than he felt comfortable with-but he knew that she and Dorian Pavus, the star of the studio art department, had become fast friends.
Staying away from Dr. Lavellan had proved to be a difficult task. He had not expected her to win the night through a rousing (if not coerced) performance. Although he sensed the young woman had not enjoyed her time in the spotlight, her sylphlike build illuminated by the green light had made Ellana appear transcendent on the stage. He could tell by the whispering around him in the audience he was not the only one to think as much. Solas wondered, not for the first time, if Dr. Lavellan was aware of how beautiful she was.
"A bit of a crush," Leliana had teased him at a late-night briefing. She had brought along a few photographs of Dr. Lavellan on her route to and from campus, and Solas found his gaze lingering too long on the angular features.
"You have to stop with this heavy surveillance." He muttered defensively. "Dr. Lavellan deserves to be free from all this. Have you ever considered the concept of privacy?"
"I'm worried, Solas," Leliana said somberly. "The Gray Wardens reports on the Evanurius are growing increasingly fraught. We've separated them into different prisons...I don't know how much I should tell you."
"Is Dr. Lavellan in immediate danger?" Solas asked in a calm voice despite his growing anxiety. He knew he could trust Leliana implicitly, but sometimes balked at her need to control all pieces of information. I suppose that is what makes her the best.
Leliana grimaced. "Not yet, but I suspect that might change in the months to come. You must form a relationship with her. After you, I assume she would be their next target."
"I've never understood why the Evanurius aren't simply- eliminated."
"You surprise me, Solas, you are usually the pacifist," Leliana said with a raised eyebrow. "Truthfully, there have been several, shall we say, accidents. Only, we've learned-we'll they can't be killed."
"That's impossible," Solas said, spitting out his wine. Thinking back to their early days as double-agents, he could recall several particular instances of interrogation by Leliana that still left him sleepless. He knew first-hand how ruthless her methods were.
"You need to become friends with Dr. Ellana Lavellan. For her sake." Leliana said forcefully. "I know this is the calm before the storm. Call it divine inspiration."
The two of them rarely talked about Leliana's belief in the Maker, the human god, and how it drove her. Solas, a man of science and an elf at that, did not have any strong religious compulsions. That and, after being manipulated by fanatics in his early adult life, he was skeptical of anyone that could be absolutely certain about such beliefs. Leliana was not a fanatic that Solas knew, but he questioned making decisions based on providence.
Looking at his stern face, Leliana laughed, patting Solas on the hand, "Call it a gut feeling then, Professor."
"You always know how to make me feel uneasy," Solas complained. "Just when I think things might be settled, you appear, and things get worse. Besides, how do you expect me to endear myself to Dr. Lavellan, I am possibly her least favorite person in the world."
"I'm sure you can come up with something." Leliana winked, "You are charming when you want to be. At least, according to ."
"You keep that in my file?" Solas replied with an annoyed sigh. He was ranked in the top ten professors on the website. "Sexy baritone voice turns all the worst medical diagnoses sound like poetry" one review read. "Has a six-pack underneath that wool sweater. He would rank 10/10 if he wore a skin-tight t-shirt. Or better yet, no t-shirt at all."
"I keep everything in your file."
Recalling the conversation only made Solas feel embarrassed and self-conscious, and he couldn't help but hope that a particular art historian had not found such lines in her internet searches for him, lest she think he was a lecher.
Solas also couldn't resist thinking that the spy mistress underestimated the young Elvhen scholar. No, she might not be trained in combat or subterfuge, but the more of her publications he read, the more sharp and inquisitive he found her mind. Seducing a young professor might seem like sport to some of his less principled colleagues, but he suspected that even if he had wanted to, Dr. Lavellan did not seem the type to fall for such an act. It was beneath someone of her formidable intelligence.
If Solas was honest, Dr. Lavellan's independent spirit made her even more attractive. No, don't go there, he thought to himself, clenching his eyes tightly and repeating in his mind. Do not let your feelings rule you! He had recalled with great regret how remarkable he had found her that morning lost and wandering the quad. With a mournful sigh, he thought that if that introduction had gone better, perhaps they would be attending this event together, before a fancy dinner out. Or in.
He would have to content himself with offering only friendship and support. Anything else would be morally reprehensible. He was keeping an eye on her just so that she didn't come to harm. That would be easy enough.
Dr. Lavellan was making it easy enough at the moment. He had watched her enter the university exhibition space, admiring how she-unlike so many of the masked Orlesian elite how-she had gone right to the entryway didactic, spending several moments to carefully reading about the works.
Grabbing a glass of champagne from one of the passing trays, Solas sipped at the overly sweet pour watching Dr. Lavellan move from canvas to canvas, completely entranced. He stood for some time with wonder until he was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder, and a warm squeal of "Solas, so wonderful to see you!" coming from the mustached mouth of a certain Dorian Pavus.
"Good to see you, Doctor," his husband. Iron Bull nodded behind him.
"Listen, I have a new faculty member. I'd like you to meet!" Dorian exuberantly chirped. "I feel like you'd find her work fascinating."
Oh no, Solas thought to himself. How did Dorian not know about our scuffle? Surely, Ellana would have mentioned it to him.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I have to be going," Solas said, quickly holding his hands up.
"One more moment, really," Dorian said, gently grabbing Solas' arm, firmly enough that he could not flee without making a scene. "Ellana!" the Tevinter artist called out. "There is someone I have to introduce you to."
"Dorian, I'm so sorry, my pager, medical emergency."
"Oh please, don't be shy," Iron Bull whispered, "We both know you're not carrying a pager."
Dorian rolled his eyes, calling again to a very perturbed looking Dr. Lavellan who looked at Solas with a penetrating white-hot anger so strong that he thought he might be vaporized by her two hazel eyes.