Chapter 7: Interospection

Chapter 7: Interospection

Solas had not been seriously injured since gaining Mythal's powers and was quite impressed by his speedy recovery. Forty-five minutes had passed, and he was almost completely healed. Had this injury occurred five years ago, it would have been life-threatening, he acknowledged. "Your resilience is quite remarkable," Vivienne commented casually. "Would you like me to heal your arm as well," she offered with a smile.

He reached down and unwrapped the bandage, revealing the twenty-two stitches over Da'Fen's handiwork. Perhaps this was a token that he should hold onto. It wouldn't be the first time he had purposely kept a scar, he reflected as he traced the faint line over his right brow. His hand then descended to his left arm, where he ran his fingers slowly over the wound, intricately fingering each stitch - It would definitely leave a scar. "Thank you, but that is quite alright," he said graciously.

As Vivienne excused herself and headed towards the main hall, Cullen approached. "I didn't realize that you would be finished so quickly," the commander said as he draped a blanket over Solas' bare shoulders. "I was not expecting it either. I was also not expecting to see you so soon, Commander," Solas replied.

Cullen laughed briefly as he teased, "Since we're on the subject of expectations, I'll add that I didn't think that you could make such a great pet. After hearing the stories of the dread wolf, I was rather frightened that you might not recognize friend from foe after your bloody encounter, but you were quite the good pup once I spent time with you."

Solas laughed as he said playfully, "I cry too much as a wolf. It is much harder to control my feelings in that form." Cullen once again surveyed the aftermath of the recent skirmish as he replied, "I can only imagine, but I daresay, I enjoyed rubbing your fluffy ears. I could get used to you in that form," he smiled as he looked at Solas, who had just finished putting his pants back on.

"As for why I'm here, you did ask me to send word on Da'Fen and Cassandra," Cullen explained as he extended his hand to Solas. "How are they," the elf said with a frown as he accepted the gesture and rose to his feet. Solas was still worried that Da'Fen had seen or heard something horrible, and he had no idea how Cassandra was handling it.

As they began walking towards the great hall, Cullen could see the concerned look on Solas' face. "I couldn't really ascertain Da'Fen's reaction to the battle because he is still trying to process his mother's death. His breakdown today was a healthy step in the right direction, to say the least."

Cullen hesitated briefly. "As for Cassandra, she's a lot like you, Solas. She puts up a tough exterior and bottles everything up, so it's hard to tell what she's thinking or feeling sometimes, even for me. I can say with certainty that she was shaken up, but since she did not want to talk about it with me, I cannot comment further."

Solas had not liked the seeker at first. She was stubborn, heavy-handed in her first interactions with Elessa, and she initially had been overly demanding of Solas. As he looked back at the events surrounding their first encounter, he realized that his initial judgments were unfair. Had he been in her position, he likely would have responded the same way.

It was rather odd that Solas never realized how similar they were in the manner in which they processed emotions, and he applauded Cullen's insight. Of everybody he had met during the inquisition, Cassandra was the person who he had grown to respect the most. Though he was not a follower of Andraste, he admired her for her immense faith and dedication to her cause. Had it not been for that dedication, the Inquisition might not have formed, and the breach might not have been sealed.

She was the string that held everything together quietly in the background, and Solas questioned whether or not the seeker ever realized this. He could remember times when Cassandra had saved lives by taking deadly blows meant for others, himself included. She never complained, and he often found himself in awe of her selflessness. The more they talked with one another, the more respect he garnered for her.

She was genuinely humble in a way that he had never encountered. Humility - the one trait that he never possessed; the one trait that might have prevented him from making his greatest mistakes. Perhaps that is the main reason that he admired her so greatly, he deduced.

They had become rather unlikely friends, and now Solas was worried for her. "Do you think she is afraid of me," Solas asked reluctantly. "To be honest, I really don't know," Cullen replied. "With Cass, I think the best course of action is to give her time and see how she reacts. Don't press her about it, but let her know that you're available if she would like to discuss anything."

"Thank you, Commander," he stated as they walked into the main hall. "Can I ask you a favor," he added. Cassandra and Cullen had done so much for Da'Fen, and Solas wondered how he would ever be able to show his gratitude. "I appreciate everything that the two of you have done for my son," he declared, "But will you allow Da'Fen to sleep without interference tonight?"

Cullen suddenly stopped walking as he looked up at Solas and responded firmly, "Do not feel that you need to ask permission from either of us regarding your son. We will assist you if able, but you are his father, and we will honor your wishes."

Solas had left Elessa and in some ways felt that he had little paternal rights to Da'Fen. He chided himself for thinking that way. Cullen was correct, of course, but having custody of a four year old child still didn't feel completely real to Solas. That his son's fragile life was in his hands to raise and protect still scared him. That he gazed upon Da'Fen and loved him instantly scared him as well. That outsiders were trying to kidnap or kill Da'Fen scared him most of all.

He had always felt alone. He had pushed others carelessly aside and relied solely on himself for thousands of years. Getting to know Elessa and the rest of the Inquisition taught him a great deal about trust, friendship, and love, but in the end, he had abandoned them all in favor of his old ways and his obsession with changing the results of the past.

It gave him comfort that there were others who genuinely cared for Da'Fen and were willing to assist him. "Thank you, Cullen," Solas said reverently. "You and Cassandra were always there for Elessa, and you were there for my son when he needed you. I cannot express how much that means to me."

Cullen nodded in recognition. "He should be going to bed in the next hour or two. Would you like to say good night to him before heading back to your room?" Solas smiled as he answered, "I think I would like that." He followed Cullen to his and Cassandra's quarters on the opposite end of the castle.

As the door opened, Solas noted how ordinary the room looked. There was a large bed, big enough for two or three humans, a desk with loose papers scattered about, a few mahogany dressers, and two matching nightstands. There were no decorative tapestries, stained-glass windows, or wall decorations of any sort. It was functional, yet simple, and it seemed to fit their personalities quite well.

When Da'Fen noticed Solas and Cullen, he eagerly ran towards the door to greet them. The boy instantly grabbed Solas' hand and led him to the center of room as he exclaimed excitedly, "Remember when you asked me about my favorite toys?" Da'Fen patted the bed, urging Solas to sit. Solas looked up at Cullen, who nodded permissively, and he took a seat at the corner of the bed. "Of course I remember, da'len," he replied softly with a smile.

"Close your eyes and put out your hands," Da'Fen ordered. Solas once again obliged. He soon felt the light weight of a soft and fuzzy item placed into each hand. When Da'Fen gave him the order to open his eyes, he observed that he was holding two stuffed animals - matching crocheted wolves, the only difference being that one was small and white, and the other was large and black.

Solas could tell by the dirt and wear on them that they had been carried lovingly by his son for a long time. "Mamae made them for me when I was a baby," Da'Fen said proudly. He gestured to the little one as he said, "This one is me." Then he gestured to the larger one as he said, "And this one is my father."

Solas' heart sank deep into his chest, and his stomach became tumultuous and uneasy. He didn't know if he was going to be sick or burst into tears, and it once again took every ounce of control within him to retain some semblance of composure.

Solas looked at Da'Fen as he stuttered shakily, "These are beautiful, da'len. I see why they are your favorites." He couldn't hold on much longer, so he stood up and kissed his son on the forehead as he choked out, "I should get something to eat. Maybe I will see you tomorrow."

As he turned to leave, he looked at Cassandra, who was sitting at the desk and watching passively. Solas noticed that she had not made direct eye contact with him since before the assassination attempts. Cullen was right. She would need time, not that he had any to spare right now.

As Cullen escorted him to the door, Solas bowed his head as he questioned sadly, "How long ago were those made?" The commander cleared his throat nervously and replied, "She made them for his first birthday." Cullen could tell that Solas was barely holding together. "Are you going to be alright," he finally asked.

Solas was hurting, but he nodded politely as he exited. The door couldn't close soon enough. He leaned his back against a nearby wall and slumped down, pieces of cold stone scraping his back as he reached the ground and buried his head between his knees for the second time that day. Though his eyes were filled with tears, he didn't weep. He was trapped inside his own head and deep in thought.

Elessa had known for years, and she had carefully and lovingly crafted those tokens for their son. Years that he would never get back because he had left her, believing that he was protecting her by doing so. Years that he had never known his son because of his guilt and refusal to check up on Elessa. Years that, if not for his pride and foolish mistakes, he could have had with his family. They likely would have been some of the best years of his life, and he had completely robbed himself of them.

In his contemplation, he gazed up towards the stars of the clear night sky and shivered in the cold winter air. He was known by his people as the great betrayer. While it was true that he had betrayed his kin for their own good to save the people, he knew that doing nothing would have been worse. If he had betrayed anyone, he realized, it was himself – it was his heart.

He had left the Inquisition and Elessa because he thought that he was better off alone. If he was alone, it would be harder to hurt people – to be hurt by people. He could fix his mistakes and find redemption, and once he found a way to do that, he could go back to Elessa. This was what he had intended, never thinking that in doing so, he would make yet another grave error in judgment – perhaps even greater than the one he had been trying to fix in the first place. And now he was seeking redemption for that.

As Solas stood up, he giggled cynically at the thought that his life felt like one big, cosmic joke. Perhaps he was doomed to repeat the same cycle for the remainder of his days. His giggle soon turned into a maniacal laugh, and anybody who might have passed him would have thought him a madman. He did not believe in the gods, but he now laughed heartily at the fact that if there was anybody who might be watching him, anybody who had any influence in shaping the world, then they must certainly have the most sick sense of humor imaginable.

*I apologize if this chapter felt a bit like filler. I didn't see any way around it, and the next one should be more interesting. As always, thank you for sticking with me. I greatly appreciate the support and comments. Encouragement keeps me going ;)