The rest of the day was a haze.
He was cold, his absent vest tied up and bloodied around her broken bones and skin, holding it all together, but the wind only drove him faster.
They could reach Val Royeaux today, if he got them there quickly enough.
And he would.
Falon was strong and willing, abiding his urgency with stamping hooves and tearing calls from its great lungs. He no longer needed to snap his heels or the reins, the Hart pressed into their path with as much determination as he did.
Solas tried to smooth his anxieties with his focus, but the weight of her in his arms was frightening him.
Had she always been so small? So breakable?
He thought of how deceptive she could be with a curse, remembering her insistence and her confidence when she argued to close the damned Rift.
And he had believed her.
How could he not? He had seen her rip through holes in time and come out unscathed and seething. He had seen her face Corypheus alone and fall to depths of snow and darkness, making it back alive and hopeful, ready to lead without complaint.
She was waves of an ocean when she fought, pushing and pulling with magic, a current of aura that would overwhelm and crash. She was nature, her suddenness and power a steady beacon of her incredible spirit. She could carve mountains with her current.
But now, in his hands she was slipping rain, leaking through his fingers the more he tried to hold her.
Mortal. His quiet mind reminded.
He had tried to tend the wound before racing off – but it was too much. He could only slather it in elfroot and tie it up. There were fragments of bone shards in her skin. He needed time, supplies, help. If it wasn't fixed soon, it would get infected. Worse.
A yelp of pain startled him to a glance and he watched her bright eyes snap open, her hands yanking at his tunic.
Shock and exhaustion had worn off then.
And now the pain would start.
"AH—Solas!"
His fingers shifted to cradle her head as she turned into his shoulder. "It is going to hurt, Ellana, I can't—"
She cried out, the whine of it trailing to the wind as they rode. He did his best to draw her legs steady, had even drawn her side saddle and tucked her into his lap, but there was little to do.
"I—it hurts—It's!"
"I know—" He tried, glancing down at her tightly closed eyes and cursing himself. He had been a fool. And now he was inadequate and unable. "I know, da'len, I know."
"S-Solas please!"
Solas didn't know what she asked for and he doubted she did either, but it was hard for him not to feel the tight coil of his chest and the heaviness in his throat when she begged him.
He had no magic for her. He had managed to stall her blood flow with runes and forced willpower, but numbing her to it now was dangerous. If she slipped into the Fade with pain hounding her subconscious… she could be taken. Her listless state would draw out the worst. She was much more vulnerable there, and he could not risk her spirit to ease her body.
Even if she could rest fine in the Fade, he feared her sleep after losing so much blood.
"Ellana, I can't." He whispered back, willing for her to understand but hearing only groans of pain and hushed whines of crying. "Ir abelas lethallan, I can't."
"Solas…"
He swallowed, kept his eyes ahead, their path framed by the antlers of the Hart. He ignored her prying fingers tugging at his collar and his sides. And he let her moans of agony become part of the ambiance, the sound entwining with the breathing of the beast beneath them.
She writhed against him as they rode, and they rode for hours.
And while each cry was a twang against his perseverance, he was so thankful for it. It would at least keep her awake.
Solas kept them tight to the edge of the waters. The forest was lush but wide, allowing them to storm through it with little trouble. And every so often when the leaves and foliage would break he could see the silhouettes of the Orlesian capital draw slowly nearer.
There was no stopping for rest, no break, no quiet conversation or acknowledgement of the sun resting brightly on the ground. It arched above them uncaringly, and Solas raced it.
And despite being plagued by anxiety and worry, he had them make good time.
Eventually though, Falon slowed, the beast huffing for breath and steadying their pace in a golden sunset. The animal was still just an animal, one that needed rest.
Ellana's twists of agony had become only restless sounds of short pains and discomfort.
Solas let himself breathe too. He curled his arm around her, ignoring his own discomfort and ache from the ride to assess her.
Bright eyes flickered behind fluttering lids and his hands graced her cheek, unbidden. "No Ellana, no sleep."
She looked up at him and his sympathy sang to the misery plain on her face.
"Stay with me, now." He tried to press his palm into her back, to sit her straighter. "We are nearly there; don't fall to it just yet."
"I can't—I'm… so tired—it hurts—"
"I know, I know." He pulled her close; let her shove her forehead down on his shoulder with a dead weight her frail body could barely manage. It was the only time he would allow himself to curl his arms around her, to hold her preciously, and he wished he didn't have to.
When he felt her begin to droop, his hands found purchase in her hair, playing with it and tickling her scalp to keep her awake. She shifted and twisted, pulling away from him. "Awake, stay awake. Please, Inquisitor."
"Solas—"
"Ask me something." He urged, desperate to keep her from losing this battle. "Whatever you like, please."
But he could feel her slip; feel her weak body lax into sleep and her spirit begin to wander. "Please Ellana—" he nearly begged, "Talk to me."
Ellana murmured and suddenly he remembered Cole, sweet Cole and his insightfulness.
"Tell me about the knots lethallan, the Lover's Knots."
She shifted, hot skin on her forehead wrinkling in confusion as her eyes peeled up at him. "…knots?"
"Yes the knots, the halves you braided for others. How many have you made?"
Her eyes flickered, shades of trees darting across her face and the sun tracing glimmers of tears on her lashes. "…two." She answered, her voice strained but curious.
"Three now… for Cole."
"Who else da'len, tell me."
"My… sisters."
His brow pulled together, not expecting the answer. Shifting, he tried to keep her from the Fade, pushing his thumb roughly over her vallaslin. "You have sisters, lethallan?"
"Not anymore—I… I don't remember them anymore…"
"Ellana, please." He urged as her eyes closed completely. "Tell me of your sisters—"
But she was gone. Desperately Solas pulled her close to his chest, his mind already imagining how soft and unguarded her spirit must be in that other realm. His mind tormented him with memories of all the powerful demons he had seen, of the more malicious spirits that would flock to her weak state and body.
"Please, please—" he tried still, and mana flooded to his fingertips, frost erupting in his palms. He pressed the cold ice into her back.
Her startled gasp and cry of pain was his sigh relief.
"No—Solas- I can't-"
"Just a little longer now, da'len, I promise." He said, the sympathy no doubt apparent on his face as she watched him blearily. "Stay with me."
His heels kicked at Falon and the Hart snuffed angrily, shaking it's antlers in defiance.
"Let's go!" He called, a hasty snap at the reins and the Hart took off once more, upset but obedient.
Solas pushed them hard into a sprint towards the main highway.
Ellana was in and out of consciousness with seemingly almost every breath, every jerk, as he tried to keep her talking. He was constantly looking for her eyes just as he was constantly driving them forward.
The sun crested beyond the trees, dying steadily on the horizon. The air grew colder with the grayer night and Ellana's quiet mumbling was shaky with chill.
Solas could hear the rasped overworked breathing of the Hart, pushing its stamina with each round of thundering hooves.
And when night finally took the sky, he saw the tall walls of the Sun Gates. A towering sight that never looked so welcoming.
"Solas…"
"Just a little longer and then you can sleep."
When they reached the stone work Falon took them across with ease, scattering the few other travelers venturing towards the Gates. People erupted in startled shouts, drawn horses neighing loudly as the Hart trumpeted past.
He needed to get her safe—inside—
"Stop! Stop please!"
A figure was rushing out towards them, hands rising and waving as they stepped into their path.
"Inquisition! Please I am here for—"
Falon reared harshly, jostling both him and Ellana as its front legs kicked to a halt.
The stranger before them cringed, holding defensive arms up as they rushed in explanation, voice heavy with an Orlesian accent. "Inquisition! Inquisition!—I am here for the Inquisition!"
"Who are you?" Solas called out, his wrist yanking back on the reins to steady their agitated Hart. With Ellana's head rolling against his chest, murmuring incoherence, his patience was long gone.
"I am Lord Aradeau of Val Foret's chauffer! I was told to retrieve the Herald of Andraste from the Gates! Please—" The man straightened, his face covered in a simple black eye mask. "I have notice—you must come with me!"
Solas's brows furrowed as he stared down at him. They had sent no news that they would be arriving. "How did you know to fetch us?"
"I have notice, I have—" The man struggled, his hands scrambling in his ornate jackets to retrieve an rolled parchment. He neared the Hart carefully and raised the letter.
Solas saw the Inquisition seal before he took it in his hands, recognizing the writings immediately at Cassandra's. He could never underestimate the woman's foresight.
"Your forces sent word about your arrival! I am supposed to take you immediately to the Chateau!"
Cassandra had in fact addressed a Grand Advisor of the name Aradeau in her letter, and he trusted in the letter's validity—still—
"Solas…"
Ellana's eyes blinked slowly at him, expression calm and distant. "I'm so tired…"
His mouth drew in a thin line, turning back down to the nervous looking chauffer. "Lead us swiftly please, we have no more time to spare."
Their path through the city was one made in haste. The night had draped over Val Royeaux with cold and silence, lanterns dim and gold in the dark.
Their chauffer did not hesitate to take their reins and lead them deep through the streets to his Lord's home, and Solas spent his time speaking quietly to Ellana's weak gaze.
They arrived to a large towering mansion in a street full of others, its windows darkened and seemingly abandoned.
Still, when they arrived the door opened for more people, many pouring out to aid them.
He took Ellana himself as they wrangled the Hart around to the stables, servants scrambling about him up the stairs.
"You are here!" A voice called, and Solas looked up to take in the grand interior of the building and a man walking down the stairs, his face masked fully in a gold sculpted visage. No doubt this Lord Aradeau. "So soon!"
The mansion was deceptively large, if dark, and Solas' voice echoed when he spoke. "Please, she needs to be tended to immediately, I need a place to lie her out—"
"Of course, of course—" The man's tall form strode forward to them on the landing, looking over them both before snapping his fingers. "Quickly now, take the Herald to the East Quarters to see the Healer immediately."
The crowd of servants funneled toward him and suddenly Ellana's form was being lifted from him. "No I just—"
"Come, let them take her, they need to see to it she doesn't bleed anymore."
"I have—"
"We need to see to you too." Lord Aradeau insisted, his hand grasping Solas' shoulder. Ellana was lifted from him completely, the servants arranging her gently. Her hands twitched, eyes blinking back at him in slight confusion. "My Healer is the best there is, he will make sure she is well looked after."
"That is kind, but I am not hurt and would prefer to—"
"Let us see to you and then you can go with them." The Lord countered.
"I—"
"Solas…"
He twisted, looking over to the Inquisitor's haggard expression giving the weakest halfhearted smile he had ever seen her wear. Her voice was quiet but coherent when she spoke. "It's alright."
No it wasn't. He was responsible at this point. She had snapped her leg to pieces because of his terrible judgment, his misplaced trust, and his over confidence.
"Come, rest a moment and then go to her."
"Fine." He breathed, and then she was being taken away, the servants hurrying down the hall. "Keep her awake! She must not sleep yet!" He called after him.
"Not to worry, not to worry, I have doctors here as well as a healer. They will know what to do."
Solas watched them leave with her, the trepidation from his heart not yet gone.
"Come; let's go to the parlor for a moment."