CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ne las ma vhenan hamin – You give my heart rest.
Mana – hold, wait, stop
Dir'lath – beloved
Ar lath ma – I love you.
Though the Chantry service was dull, Myra enjoyed the time spent with Cullen, Cassandra, and Fennec. Her child had already run along with the Seeker to show off her skills with a wooden sword. It pleased Myra to see Fennec bond with one of her closest friends. Dorian had already invited her to the tavern that night, which Myra was happy to attend, even if Solas protested.
She decided to spend time with the fellow elven apostate, since she had time to spare before meeting with Dorian. After saying her goodbyes to Cullen, she entered Solas's study. He sat at the desk, drinking tea. His face contorted.
"Something wrong with your tea?" Myra greeted him.
Solas shook his head. "It is tea, I detest the stuff." He scowled at his cup as he set it back in its saucer. "But I need to shake the nightmares. I may require a favor, lethallan."
Myra sat on his desk, concern filling her. "What's wrong?"
"I heard my friend's cry for help in my sleep. Someone has bound her to their will, forced her to kill. We must save her."
"Of course. How have they bound your friend: blood magic?"
"A summoning circle."
Myra paused for a moment in shock. Solas sighed impatiently and stood from his desk, beginning to pace the room.
"Your friend…is a spirit?"
"Yes." Solas approached Myra. "Please help me, da'len, as I have helped you."
"You needn't ask." Myra closed the distance between them, pulling him into a hug. It hurt her to see him in such distress. She wanted nothing more than to kiss his fears away, but she controlled her impulses. He asked for time to think, give him that.
Solas wrapped his arms around Myra, holding her close. She held him tight.
"Peace, hahren. I'll help rescue your friend."
"Lethallan."
Myra did not turn her head from the Frostbacks that cut into the starry horizon. "You return." She did not move from her sitting place on the battlements as Solas approached her.
"The hour is late, lethallan," he said.
"An astute observation." Myra did not break gaze with the horizon. Solas joined her.
"Where did you go?" Myra asked. She exhaled perfect smoke O's.
"A place nearby where the Veil is thin. I dreamt and found the spirit's resting place."
"What happens when spirits die?" Myra asked.
"They return to the Fade," Solas answered, a hint of a smile on his face. "Already, I felt its energy returning. A new spirit will take her place."
"Do you think we're the same way?" Myra asked looking to the sky. "Sometimes, I feel the wind as a lover's sigh, as if Trewyn still watches me." She felt the familiar pang in her heart when speaking of her deceased husband and fell silent, averting her gaze downward.
"Does something trouble you?" Solas asked.
"I am always troubled." Myra shook her head and stood up. "I can't sleep without the stars overhead. It was bad in Haven, but at least I could hear the wolves cry. Here, it's…" she paused…
Armor clanged as a sentinel walked by. The tavern roared with the Chargers' laughter. A couple guards hollered from the barracks about someone being a "filthy, cheating bastard." An officer shouted at them to "Pipe the fuck down, cadets, or you'll be cleaning bedpans for the next month!" Crows cawed loudly from the aviary, startled by all the commotion. Babies of pilgrims cried into the night and couples yelled at each other about whose turn it was. Horses whinnied and stomped their hooves.
"I know it's foolish," Myra said, "but I miss the noises of the forest and the night sky overhead: stars and moonlight peeking through the treetops…Seeing nothing but stone while I lie awake at night feels so…wrong."
Solas listened intently, soaking in every word. Myra appreciated that about him: how he really listened… She saw him smile and realized she'd been staring. Blushing, she averted her gaze quickly. "Ir abelas."
"Din'dirthera ma abelas," Solas said. The exchange was becoming rather familiar between them. Solas stood from the battlements. "Come, da'len. You will have your night sky." He brushed her elbow gently as he passed, the ghost of a grasp beckoning her to follow.
He led her across the battlements, traversing several rooms before they'd found one with the ceiling caved in overhead. Myra could hear the cool breeze overhead and feel the chill of the night. Brushing the rubble off the bed, Solas climbed in and motioned her to join him.
Myra blushed, remembering his earlier rejection. No…not a rejection, he just wanted time to think... "A-are you sure?"
Solas gave the hint of a smile. "Do not grant me the opportunity to change my mind."
Myra approached the bed slowly…cautiously…before settling next to him, making sure to leave a couple inches between them. Solas viewed the distance, shook his head, then pulled her closer, resting her head on his chest. He breathed in her scent, then sighed happily.
"Ne las ma vhenan hamin. Ma serranaas." Solas's chest rumbled as he spoke. He kissed her head sleepily before slipping off to slumber. And with the stars twinkling above her, Myra easily followed him into the Fade.
About a month passed. Myra had left with Cassandra, Dorian, and Sera to Caer Oswin. She would have brought Solas, but he requested to stay behind for this mission.
"I don't understand what I did wrong," Myra confided in Dorian one night, crying after a night of heavy drinking.
"You didn't do the damnedest thing wrong. He's just broody like that. Wonder if he thinks it's part of his charm."
Three weeks passed on the road, and Myra's panic only grew.
"He told me he needed time to think," she told Cassandra. "What if this is his decision?"
"You are overthinking this. Perhaps he simply did not wish to make this arduous journey," Cassandra said as they led their horses through a thick forest.
She confided in Sera as well. "I don't know what I'll do if he ends things. My heart can't take this. By the Dread Wolf, it can't."
"Well, first thing you gotta do is rid yourself of all this elfy shite, 'cause that's only gonna remind you of him. Then, you gotta start being your own person. You're you, and I'm me, and that doesn't change whether it's you and him, or you and me, or you and Blackwall, or even you and our stuffy Commander. You're still you, and you're gonna stay you, so be happy 'bout it, yeah?"
But none of their encouragement helped put her worries at ease. Even after more pressing matters, like the Seekers' allegiance with Corypheus, came to light, she still tossed and turned in the night, preyed upon by Fear and Desire demons.
"You will always be alone," Fear said. "No one would want to spend their life with the likes of you."
"Come with me," Desire said. "Come with me and never be alone again."
When they returned to Skyhold, Myra escorted two of the horses to the stables. Cassandra escorted the other two. They did this in solemn silence.
Myra closed the stable and began to remove the horses reins. She saw Cassandra pull out the Seekers' book from one of her pouches.
"Cassandra…"
The Seeker didn't reply, staring hard at the book.
"For what it's worth, I'm sorry."
Cassandra's posture was tense. She gripped the book tightly. "I should get back to reading."
"Of course." Myra gave a sympathetic smile. "If there's anything you need…"
"Thank you."
The Seeker left.
"Rough trip?" Blackwall stood near his fire pit, working on a large wooden rocking horse.
"The roughest." Myra sighed. "Could use a drink…"
"I'm sure Dorian would be happy to oblige. I'm here if you need to talk."
Myra smiled. "You've been loyal to me, Blackwall. I appreciate that."
The Warden smiled a bit. "Need something heavy moved?"
"Manual labor in exchange for compliments?"
"I aim to please."
Myra giggled. Blackwall flushed a bit.
He cleared his throat. "Solas stopped by earlier, asked for you."
Myra cocked her head. Solas? The same Solas that had refused to travel to Caer Oswin with her? She still didn't know what she'd done to create this rift between them, but perhaps he intended to close it…for good. "Thank you."
"Everything alright?"
"I'm fine, I just…" Myra sighed.
Blackwall waited for a bit, whittling away at the wood. "You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."
Myra gave a grateful smile. "Thank you. Just…he's been distant."
"Isn't he always?" Blackwall said.
"More so than usual."
Blackwall scoffed. "If this is the same Solas that didn't speak to you for days because of the one night we spent together…"
"It was my fault…"
Blackwall stopped whittling away. For long moments he said nothing. Myra shuffled her feet in the hay beneath her feet. A horse nudged her hand for oats.
Finally, the Warden spoke. "It's not my place, but…I worry for you. Be careful with that one. Wolves are easier to kill than catch."
It was an uncharacteristically mysterious response from the Grey Warden, and his words still reeled in her mind by the time she made it to Solas's study. She found Solas relaxed on his sofa, engrossed in a book.
"Lethallin," she said, announcing her presence.
"Lethallan!" He slammed his book shut and shot up. He seemed…eager. Myra furrowed her brow. Why would he be pleased to see her? She was certain he wanted to end things between them.
"Blackwall said you were looking for me?"
"I've eagerly awaited your return."
"Why?"
Solas's struggled for words.
Solas never struggles for words...
"It would be far easier to show you," he finally decided.
Confusion radiated through her body as Myra let him take her hand and lead her to her quarters. "Solas, what are you—?"
"Mana. Patience, da'len."
They walked up the stairs. The area smelled…different, like Solas's study, but she couldn't quite put her finger on why.
Finally, they reached Myra's bedroom. At first she didn't notice any change, then her eyes fell on a pile of large, white cloths in the corner.
"Solas, what did you do?"
He merely smiled before looking up.
And when Myra followed his gaze, she was breathless. The ceiling was covered, from edge-to-edge, with a fresco of the night sky through the treetops. The constellation Fenrir stood at the center of the stars, with the other constellations encircling it. The overhanging leaves were painted in black, just as they would appear sleeping in the forest, and the moon peeked out the corner, its white light breaking through some of the overhang and filtering moonbeams to the rest of the scene.
"Solas…" Myra looked at him in awe. His gaze was soft. "What does this mean?"
"It means," he said, looking down and taking her hands in his, "I still haven't forgotten that kiss."
Myra felt her eyes sting with tears as relief and joy flooded over her. She threw her arms around him, burying her face into his neck as she started to cry. "Ma serranaas, ma serranaas."
Solas held her close, then tilted her head up and kissed her.
"Vhenan." He hugged her and rocked her gently. "Ma dir'lath da'len."
"Hahren," she said. "Ar lath ma."
"Ar lath ma."
He gave her a final kiss, and just as he'd once felt the whole world change around her, she felt the whole world change around them.