Solas' plans were changing fast. He could not imagine that Inquisitor would agree to go to Crestwood so early. And the meeting with a Grey Warden would surely lead to their long absence from Skyhold. Solas needed to see Cole.

Fortunately, Cole had been allowed to join the Inquisition. The boy was unusual, to put it mildly. Solas was sure he was a spirit-like creature, given his ability to hide, to make people forget, to read the minds. Yet he had a body of a human. Something was not right, and that left Cole very uncertain and confused. Solas promised him he would look after him, try to explain the world to him. The boy accepted the offer eagerly.

Leaving the Inquisitor's quarters, crossing the Main Hall, Solas passed through his room to pick some books he thought Cole would like. Then he crossed the bridge above the courtyard, marched through the Cullen's office that was empty because of War Council and stopped on the ramparts, the breathtaking view of the Frostback Mountains enthralling him again. The image from only half an hour before emerged in his mind – the Inquisitor's tiny frame surrounded by the same old snow-covered peaks. They were even older than him and probably remembered more of Skyhold history than he could ever learn. Before these mountains, even Solas felt small. Yet, their task felt to be so much greater than Thedas itself. The mountains stood tall and proud, just as he had sworn to stand, when he took the name.

Finally he resumed his pace reaching the tavern's attic in almost no time. Cole, as usual, was nowhere to be seen.

"Cole? Hello?" Solas called out, searching the room with his eyes.

"Oh, you have come." A pleasantly surprised voice came from under him. Solas looked down and saw the boy sitting on the floor in the corner.

Solas arched an eyebrow. "I always keep my promises." He stated in his polite, but firm manner.

Cole stared in front of him, suddenly looking a bit lost. "But you promise little." He remarked matter-of-factly.

Solas sighed, but then the light smile came to his face. He put the books on the existing pile, and slowly lowered himself to sit on the floor next to Cole. He always felt at ease around spirits, because they saw through him and did not judge him. They had no personality and no desire to conduct judgements. And Solas did not have to hide, did not have to restrain himself, and did not have to lie.

"So how is it going, Cole?" The elf asked sympathetically.

The boy glanced at him, as if not understanding. Then he paused a bit, and it seemed he tried to read himself, evidently failing.

"I'm…fine, I think." He finally answered. "She lets me stay, she lets me help, she lets me be." He added in his melodic trance-like intonation. Turning back to Solas, Cole stared at him questioningly: "Will you let me?"

"Why do you ask my permission?" Solas asked sounding amused. He found himself rather comfortable leaning his back on a chest standing nearby.

"I don't know." Cole shrugged his shoulders. "You know that." He explained as if it was obvious.

Oh, maybe he did know. Every being touched by the Fade, be it a spirit, or a possessed mortal, and even the Inquisitor felt some authority in Solas. Was it due to the amount of time he'd spent in the Fade, or due to his expert knowledge of Veil magic, or due to his elvhen origin, Solas had no means to find out. Yet his experience with the spirits proved that they were easily drawn to him and treated him respectfully.

"Of course, I let you." Solas replied softly. The spirit's purpose should never be denied.

Cole smiled at that, his childlike face lit up. His features relaxed after some moments, his eyes going slightly unfocused once more.

"The campfire is burning in the night. The night embraces, and the flames turn to ashes. Everything he touches turns to ashes. No, not her. Please, not her. Never her." Cole spoke quickly, the plead crawling into his intonation at his last words.

Solas frowned, both at his pain and displeasure. His thoughts were troubling enough, even not being recited out loud.

"I have to ask you to stop that." He requested in a quiet, kind voice.

"But you let me!" Cole protested.

"I let you help people, not me." Solas remarked, and his words were filled with sadness and imminence.

The spirit stared at him, his eyes wide with surprise. "Are you not one of the people?" He asked.

There were too many answers to that question, and all of them were true, in a sense. Solas did not have the strength, or, more honestly, the will, to venture in that direction.

"You cannot help me." He stated, lowering his head. How he wished that was not true.

Cole remained silent for some time. "I can. You are wrong." He finally said, and he sounded so inspired and sure, that Solas almost let himself believe that.

"Wrong?" Solas asked, despite himself. Was there a way to let this pain go, a way that this spirit could help him?

"Yes, wrong." Cole confirmed. His eyes gleamed with hope as he began his soft chanting.

"Bigger, brighter, better. Not the fire, the sun. She is the sun and he can never quench her. For the night ends the day, but the day ends the night. They long to be together, but can never be. Never together, never alone. Embracing each other and whispering tenderness each dawn and dusk, as it is meant to be." Cole finished looking up at the ceiling in awe, as if he saw some miracle up there.

The hope. It should have been the hope, that warm and catching feeling that rose in Solas' chest. Spirits never lied. Could it be true? He was already proven wrong in his judgement of Ellana, and not once. Cole described them as equals, belonging together. That felt so right. Solas ran his hand over his forehead and his head, overwhelmed. His hand trembled in the anticipation. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance it was meant to be. Never together, that he knew, but never alone, that he did not.

"I helped." Cole smiled proudly. He did not even doubt that in the slightest.

"You did." Solas said lightly, his intonation going up, surprised. "Thank you."

The silence resumed, but it was comfortable and soothing this time. Cole watched the elven mage with a compassion that was his essence. Solas looked at the floor, letting himself to remain in the bliss for a while.

"You told me I'm from the Fade. I do not remember what it is like. Can you tell me?" Cole asked when he was sure Solas was ready to talk again.

"Of course." Solas loved telling about the Fade. He told Cole the Fade was a realm of thoughts, memories, and wishes. How everything could be both true and false there, how you could be easily lost there if you did not know what you wanted to find. How the Fade was the imprint of the reality, changing, fickle, and vulnerable. You could alter the Fade around you, but it always altered you. And the world without Fade would be like a man without dreams, like a Tranquil. And he, Cole, was the part of the Fade, the part of world's soul, the world's compassion.

Cole listened, fascinated. He was a bit sorry he did not remember that, but he was happy he was helping. Even then, he helped Solas by asking him about the Fade, and seeing how delighted the mage was to speak about it, Cole beamed with the delight himself.

"Are there other spirits you talk to?" Cole asked.

"Yes, there are, why?" Solas inquired.

"Can you tell them about me? So they can visit me, and talk to me, when you are away?" Cole continued. "I can try to go to sleep, like you do."

Solas laughed softly. "You can't sleep, Cole. Why don't you talk more to the people surrounding you?" He suggested.

"I do that. I just wanted to talk to spirits too." Cole repeated. "Can you go to the Fade now, so I can try to sense it through you?"

Solas considered the idea for a moment. If Cole was able to see the darkest corners of his soul, why shouldn't he be able to catch a glimpse of the Fade through his mind? And furthermore, Solas knew he would not be able to visit the Fade soon, as he would be concentrated on their mission.

"All right, let's try it." Solas said, closing his eyes. He relaxed his back, and his arms, stretched his legs on the floor, and cleared his mind, sending himself into the sleep, into the Fade.

When Solas opened his eyes, he was in the Fade. It was blank at the moment, the usual greenish sky and greyish ground. He had yet to send it into changing by his will. The first thought – it was Ellana. He could not stop thinking about her, not after she opened up to him, not after Cole's words. Solas felt the Fade pulsating around him, the sky started turning dark blue, but in the center the green remained. It was the Breach.

Solas looked around wildly. Burning, shouting, the smell of death and battle, everything was growing louder and more real with every moment. It was the evening of the attack on the Haven. Why, all of a sudden?

Ellana, he thought again. It was her dream that he was drawn into by his desire to get to her. She had probably gone to sleep as he had asked her, but she was not resting. It was a nightmare.

He heard the movements and he saw Corypheus standing tall, yanking the Inquisitor from the ground. Solas felt his heart clench in pain as he saw her helpless in the air, struggling to get free.

He had not seen that on the day of the attack. They ran, as she had ordered, ran and never turned back.

He had to come closer, he had to do something.

"Beg that I succeed, for I have seen the Golden Throne, and it was empty!" Solas heard Corypheus spat his hateful words, as he threw Ellana away, and the sound of her hitting the trebuchet was almost unbearable.

Ellana managed to stand up, and unexpectedly, the fearless smile came across her face, as she looked up at him, defiantly.

"I couldn't care less about your Golden Throne and your Maker!" She exclaimed, victorious as she saw confusion showing on the magister's face, and her voice was filled with the strength Solas could have never expected.

"Ah." The darkspawn magister finally drawled with a despising frown. "Rattus sylvestris." His lips twitched in disgust, as he continued: "Do you think your Creatores will help you? You cannot reach them, or they you."

The smile was wiped out of her face now, her jaw clenched, but she still stood her ground.

"We still have one that is not locked away!" She yelled angrily not wishing to give up. Did she mean…?

"Lupus?" Now it was Corypheus' turn to smile, and that smile was making Solas both furious and sick.

"Oh yes, he might help you. He has been most helpful lately." Corypheus told seeming so pleased with his joke. And then he began to laugh.

He was not simply laughing; he was bathing in his joy and her helpless fury, her disarmed ignorance. The fits of his laughter seemed to cause her pain, as the Anchor was pulsating brightly, and Ellana nursed her marked hand with her other one, clutching it to her breast, tears running freely over her cheeks. She was unable to move, she was unable to speak, and even unable to cry. She only breathed heavily, her eyes wide with pain and fear.

Suddenly, the magister stopped laughing. Angry with himself, he narrowed his eyes at her.

"After all he's done, you still choose him as your god before me!" His face was twisted with rage, as he stretched out his hand to grab her once more.

That had to stop. Solas knew he should not interfere in other's dreams, but she needed the rest, not this torture all over again. He raised his hands, and pulled on the Veil, drawing it in around the magister, twisting it into a tight knot, so the darkspawn could be wrapped in it, cut from the Inquisitor dream.

Corypheus' figure blurred, as if mirroring in the troubled water, and then disappeared. Haven changed almost at once. It was still and silent, empty, but peaceful, as was now Ellana herself. She saw him and smiled, obviously not remembering what had just happened.

"Solas, you promised me a talk." She addressed him lightheartedly. "Why here?"

"This is where I found you." Both now and then. "It will always be important to me." Solas answered, bowing his head in a greeting.

He gestured her to come along, and they began walking towards the Chantry building. Solas studied the elven girl – she looked different. It was her dream, after all, and it was probably the way she used to think about herself, the way she used to look before the Inquisition. Ellana was dressed in the Dalish hunter armor – dark green tunic and breeches, and a leather jerkin reinforced with ironbark above that. She was barefoot, and another piece of ironbark was attached over her right knee, to facilitate the kneeling while shooting. Her longbow and her arrows were also there, behind her back.

And even her face differed. Her hair was longer, and tied tightly behind her head, giving him the view of her pointy ears. She was calm, but wary, looking much younger than he remembered. She looked rested, and Solas hoped she was finally resting in her sleep at the moment. He could not take his eyes off her, so slender, graceful and delicately strong she was, a true child of nature.

He wanted to tell how he met her, and shortly, much faster than it would take to really walk there, they found themselves in the Haven's dungeons. Solas saw Ellana shiver slightly at the sight of her shackles lying on the floor.

"I sat beside you when you slept, studying the Anchor." Solas began quietly, still half absorbed in his thoughts.

"You studied me? Varric told me you were keeping me alive." Ellana finally tore her gaze from those damned shackles to look at him, an eyebrow arched.

"That too." Solas agreed good-humoredly. "But to heal you I needed to understand what had happened to you. I ran every test I could imagine, searched the Fade, yet found so little." He lamented, watching her with the tenderness she had rarely seen in his eyes before. Such a fragile being, so brutally bound, her hollow breathes, her cold sweating, and him alongside – guilty, helpless, futile. Solas' memory readily provided those images of their meeting, but he guarded them to not affect her dream.

Ellana, on the contrary, was simply curious about that day, the sufferings of it lost on her.

"Test? What test? Can you show me one?" She exclaimed, evidently intrigued by his words.

Solas could not help smiling. Again, she was showing interest in his studies, and in her dream it had to be genuine. The way her face lit up with curiosity, the way she was awed by his knowledge, it was priceless.

"Well, I'm a Rift mage. I tried creating tiny rifts which your mark easily absorbed. That's how I suggested its connection with the Breach." Solas explained reasonably. He raised his right hand, putting together the tips of all his fingers and his thumb, and the smallest rift, no bigger than a coin, appeared in between them. "Try it," Solas suggested, smirking at her enthusiastic expression, and moved the hand closer to her.

Hesitantly, Ellana put out her marked hand, never taking her eyes off the glittering green of the rift. The Anchor also became brighter, and she felt the familiar tickling. When there was only half an inch left between their hands, the green flashed from the rift to her palm, and in half a second it was gone. Ellana draw in a breath, as she realized she had been holding it for a while. She glanced at Solas, still smiling contentedly and then back at her hand.

"Can I do it again?" She asked eagerly.

He could not refuse. "All right." He nodded and moved his fingers to create another rift. But this time, Ellana was much faster, covering his hand with her palm and ending his magic before he could even start.

"Ha!" She laughed clearly, the mirth glittering in her bright green eyes. "If you're a Rift mage, then I'm a Rift Templar!" She joked happily.

Solas' eyes remained concentrated on her hand that still had not left their connection. The Anchor, it felt familiar, and why shouldn't it? The feeling of the Orb, forgotten to Solas as it was, comforted him, bringing him wholeness. He returned his regard to her grinning face, and he smiled too, teasing and warning her at the same time. "Enatisha, lethallan." Solas chided her kindly.

Ellana took her hand back, her cheeks turning slightly pink. It was hard to say whether she was embarrassed by her childlike behavior, or by the realization they had just held hands. Either way, she grew quieter, and Solas decided to continue his story.

"My tests were not informative enough. Cassandra suspected duplicity. She threatened to have me executed as an apostate, if I didn't produce results." He told her, pacing around the room.

"Oh. I'm glad she didn't." Ellana only managed to say. She still watched him with interest, but she was not as light-hearted as before. His sharp, defined features looked so strong and determined in the weak light of the dungeons. He'd risked his life for her. Oh, how self-sacrificing he was. And how handsome he was, she added suddenly, surprising herself.

The dark of the stone room was getting too depressed and the tone of his speech not much more cheerful either. He did not intend to burden her further. Some wishful thinking and they were out in the snowy Haven again.

"You were never going to wake up. How could you, a mortal sent physically through the Fade?" Solas continued, as he walked away from the Chantry. Ellana followed him, listening attentively. He knew so much more than she. She flinched involuntarily at the word 'mortal'. Why was he calling her that?

Solas stopped abruptly, facing her, his face filled with too many emotions for her to grasp.

"I was frustrated, frightened. Although I wished to help, I had no faith in Cassandra… or she in me. I was ready to flee." He confessed, the sincerity of his voice shocking her. Solas, ready to flee? That confident, ever-so-wise, never doubting Solas? Ellana searched his face for the signs of joke, but found none.

"That is… hard to believe." She said, and her answer came out as a whisper. The idea of him risking his safety, his very life to keep her alive was overwhelming enough. But knowing he had doubts, he had been afraid, he had been cornered, but still stayed, still helped… that got her heart beating faster and her head spinning.

'I'm not lying to you!' Solas wanted to say, but that would be just that. A lie. He might still be lying to her in some things, but that conversation, that moment – that was about truth. The sole purpose of that talk was him opening himself to her, showing her his reasons, his thoughts, his feelings. It was very understandable to him that she was not prepared to see him as weak and doubting, for the Solas she knew was a carefully designed image.

"What I am saying is true," Solas replied softly, sadly. In her eyes, he saw that she believed him. He could not ask for more.

"I told myself: one more attempt to seal the rifts." He turned around, raising his hand to the image of the Breach in the sky. So desperate were both his voice and his gesture. A moment later, his posture relaxed, as he looked back at her, ready to admit his failure once again.

"I tried and failed. No ordinary magic would affect them. I watched the rifts expand and grow, resigned myself to flee, and then…"

And then, he was holding her hand once again, and that was all she could think about. The world changed around her, but she did not care as long as he was clasping her arm, his fingers so firm, so warm, and so guiding.

But soon it was all gone. Ellana lowered her arm, disappointed, but not letting him know it. When she met his eyes, her regrets were easily forgotten – the warmness in his regard largely exceeded the warmness of his hand. Solas smiled genuinely and reassuringly.

"It seems you hold the key to our salvation. You had sealed it with a gesture… and right then I felt the whole world change." He ended his sentence with such affection, that Ellana doubted she has heard the right words, for the words themselves were not at all affectionate.

Looking up to him, she raised her eyebrows and whispered back: "Felt the whole world change?"

Yes, Solas thought. She had changed so much – his world, his beliefs, him. Before her, he would never think a mortal could bear the Orb magic. Before her, he would never think a Dalish elf could be so open-minded, so ready to learn, so eager to understand. Before her, he would never think that with the spirit so bright and marvelous a woman could make his heart beat so wildly for her, despite her being dressed in barbaric clothes and covered with slave markings.

"You change… everything." Solas let out. He meant every word. This day was about truth, and the truth he told her.

Her heart was hammering, the pulse in her neck untamed, everything in her vision but him was blurring. The way he said it. Never before she felt Solas being so real, so present. He was throwing the words as big as 'everything' at her, like they cost nothing, like real Solas would never do. A totally new person stood before her, and she was madly attracted to that person.

"Sweet talker." She muttered in confusion, still unsure how to react to her sudden desire for him, for that not-the-usual-Solas. When she returned her eyes to him, she saw he had turned away, his profile so proud and tempting. She heard him breathing heavily and she noticed he was barely holding himself from something raging inside him. Could it be…? Oh, please, let it be…

Ellana reached out to trail her fingers on his jaw, only to look him into the eyes again, to see what it was burning in him. But when she touched his face, so cool from the mountain air, so fresh and smooth, her defenses fell. In one fluid movement, she leaped on him to press her lips to his mouth. Hot wave of victory ran down her body, soon to be replaced by the coldest feeling of rejection, as she felt he froze under her touch. Shamed and broken, she ended her embrace, turning her face away.

More. More. More. More. That was the only word in his mind. She took him by surprise; he was dumbfounded for a second. But then, the beast in his head roared. More.

Without thinking, Solas grabbed her upper arm, tugging her into the embrace again, and leaning down to kiss her, and properly, this time. Surely, she had been already marked by him, but now he wanted to claim her. And he did it, invading her space, invading her body, invading her mouth. He let his right hand circle around her waist, pulling her in, closer than it was possible.

He let her draw a breath, releasing her lightly for a fleeting moment. He could not have imagined how the bright her eyes would shine, how wet her lips could be, how supple and slender she could feel in his hands. Solas leaned in for another kiss, running his tongue along her upper lip, but then he changed his mind and moved lower to kiss her jaw, sucking in her tender skin. The hand on her waist also traveled down to grip her backside, pushing her into him once again.

"Solas." Her mouth now free, she moaned quietly, but so close to his ear.

Solas paused. The name was wrong. The name reminded him. It was all wrong. Them, it was wrong.

He drew back, his hands gently leaving her. His troubled eyes searched hers, asking for forgiveness.

"We shouldn't. It is not right. Not even here." He explained hurriedly.

Ellana watched him, not sure what to say. What had just happened, did it really happen? She could not answer; her memory was not working properly. And he was talking riddles again.

"Not even here?" She repeated, still very confused.

Her question brought a light grin to his lips, despite everything. She was adorable in her naivety.

"Where do you think we are?" Solas could not deny himself a bit of teasing, though his eyes did not match his voice in its mockery.

Ellana cocked her head to one side, considering.

"Hmm…in one of my wildest dreams of you?" She suggested smirking at him.

Were there many? Solas could not help wondering.

"No, wait!" The younger elf continued before he could say anything. "I can certainly do a lot wilder."

Could she? Solas chuckled skeptically. She did not know what she was talking about. Wilder than throwing herself into the embrace of a beast? Wilder than kissing a man she acknowledged as her god?

"That is a matter of debate. Probably best discussed when you wake up."

And then Solas opened his eyes. He was still sitting on the floor in the tavern's attic, and his back was going numb. Cole, he thought anxiously. He must have seen it all. Solas berated himself for recklessness.

But Cole was not sitting next to him as he did before. Searching the room, Solas was able to locate the boy – he was standing not far, his elbows leaning on the wooden railing, his head lowered forward as he watched the people below.

"Cole?" Solas called out getting up and moving closer to him.

Cole turned, and he seemed content with seeing the elf awake again.

"I'm sorry… I left." Cole muttered, his pale blue eyes focusing on Solas' face. "I sensed him. Corypheus." The boy paced around restlessly. "I don't like him. I left. I know I should not be afraid. I need to take a hold on myself." He stated finally stopping his movement and facing Solas.

He had not seen anything. What a relief.

Solas smiled kindly. "You are not the only one who needs that."

AN: Here are the translations (you may notice that I adore foreign languages, and I just can't stop from wanting more Latin from Cory).
Rattus sylvestris - rat from the woods (like a species name)
Creatores - multiple of Creator
Lupus - wolf

Enatisha - get quiet/peaceful

I hope you enjoyed it. I know I did.