~ Four ~
The sky above was scattered with millions of stars, all punctuated by the presence of the emerald breach in its midst. Solas stood quietly as he watched the swirl in the sky threaten all those below with its ominous tendrils encircling itself. His mind was dark with thoughts of a different time, a time where silver spires and intricate bridges blended seamlessly with vibrant foliage, luminescent flora illuminating the pathways. Elven homes, adorned with delicate carvings, perched gracefully on branches, creating a serene haven in the heart of an ancestral homeland.
Solas' heart ached for what once was, and the breach only served as a reminder of his weakness, and his inability to restore it all.
He thought of the strength necessary to overcome the impending battles. Once the Elder One was inevitably unmasked, the Inquisition forces, and Serana herself, would have to be strong enough to see this all the way through.
Solas' thoughts lingered on Serana. In the chaotic aftermath of her triumph over Magister Alexius, Solas observed her with a newfound appreciation. Her prowess as a dual-wielding rogue had impressed him, each calculated strike weaving a dance of lethal precision. As they ventured onward to confront the looming breach, Solas found himself quietly admiring the fluidity of her combat prowess—a blend of skill and grace that appealed to the primal in him.
Yet, it wasn't just her adeptness in combat that intrigued Solas. In the moments of rest between battles, he witnessed a different facet of Serana—a kindness that extended beyond the rigors of war. Her jovial nature and ability to find levity in dire circumstances brought a welcomed warmth to their group. Solas found himself drawn to the genuine laughter she shared with companions, an echo of a joyous spirit amidst the shadows.
Her beauty, both physical and spiritual, did not escape Solas' notice. The way her eyes held a depth that seemed to unravel mysteries of their own, and the delicate lines of her face painted a portrait of resilience. In the quiet moments when the world rested, Solas found himself studying her features, appreciating the subtle interplay of strength and vulnerability etched into her expression.
The mysterious air that surrounded Serana, like an enigma waiting to be unraveled, added another layer to Solas' fascination. His suspicion of her connection to a distant past hinted at a destiny entwined with secrets yet untold. In those contemplative moments, Solas found himself pondering the layers that shrouded Serana—a confluence of mystery and allure that stirred something within him.
As they stood on the precipice of closing the breach, Solas' feelings for Serana had evolved beyond mere curiosity. An unspoken connection had knit itself into the fabric of their shared journey, a connection that held the promise of both revelation and, perhaps, something deeper than the echoes of battles won and lost.
The sound of leaves rustling behind him shook him from his reverie, an unwelcome disruption but he saw nothing that could have caused the sounds. Intrigued, he followed the soft sound of panting. Edging thick leaves aside, his mouth went dry as he was met with an unexpected sight.
Serana's sleeping form levitated a foot off the ground, her hair splayed around her head like a crown of amber spires. Beside her, a large white wolf with golden eyes sat quietly, panting intermittently. The white wolf met Solas' eyes, pools of gold carrying a legacy of knowledge and wisdom. The wolf howled non-threateningly, yet its echo filled the air with an unmistakable warning. Leave us, Dread Wolf.
Solas jerked away clumsily as he tried to regain his breath. He closed his eyes tightly and the sight of Serana and the wolf filled his mind. He felt like a hypocrite, his desire to unveil her secrets so strong as they were. Had she already discerned his motives? The recognition in the white wolf's eyes raised the hairs on the back of his neck. He straightened and stiffly walked along the edges of the forest, and upon entering Haven he donned his mask of belonging once more.
Solas thought as he walked toward his cabin; he still did not know why she was at the Conclave that fateful day. His stomach knotted with unease as he thought of her vallaslin. She could not know the importance of the one whom the markings were meant to honor, he was sure of it. He shook his head and entered his cabin, closing the door behind him, resisting the urge to look back, unwilling to meet what might be waiting for him.
The sound of troops moving outside her door roused Serana from a deep sleep. She yawned as she sat upright, wincing as she did so. Her body ached from the effects of Alexius' time altering spell, a symptom Dorian seemed to share, as well. Sighing, she stood and walked to the water basin resting on a mantle in front of a small rectangular looking glass. She looked well rested, and would have felt so if it weren't for the lingering headache reverberating behind her eyes.
Looking at her reflection, Serana squinted at the sight of green debris in her hair. She plucked a small green leaf from behind her ear, ignoring the others scattered throughout her hair. Serana studied the leaf as though it would provide her with all the answers she sought. Closing her eyes tightly, she took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, willing herself to remember one of her dream walks. Nothing. She could remember no such venture, and even though it was not the first time, this time felt different. She was afraid; afraid of what it all meant, especially so close to repairing the tear in the sky.
Serana gripped the sides of her washbasin forcefully as a sharp pain crept up her arm, her mark sparking and glowing in waves. Her head snapped upward, mouth agape, with one clear vision before her mind's eye; a dark sphere with an effervescent glow embracing it. The vision released her just as soon as it had seized her. She collapsed to the floor breathlessly and an unexpected wave of emotion overtook her. Tears streamed down her cheeks in thick streaks.
"I can't do this alone," she whispered through a sob. "Just tell me what to do!" Her mark no longer pulsating, she hit the floor with a closed fist, the pain satisfying an unspoken need.
A soft knock at her door made her jump. She cursed quietly before slowly bringing herself to stand.
"J-just a moment!" she called out, wiping her face roughly.
Scrambling to pluck the rest of the leaves woven throughout her hair, she settled on gathering it all into a loose coil at the top of her head. She heaved a frustrated sigh, and hoped there were no rogue leaves milling about in plain sight.
Serana felt a relieved smile form at the sight of Solas when she opened the door. Her stomach felt just as warm when she was met with a smile as genuine as her own. The note of concern in his eyes brought her a small comfort; that he would care for her in any regard made her feel less alone, and like she had a small part of her people with her. He was not Dalish, but he was knowledgeable, perhaps more than most Dalish of her time. But even then, she knew her people were not like the other Dalish, either.
"Solas," she breathed quickly. "Please, come in," she motioned for him to enter and closed the door softly once he stepped into the warm cabin.
The spilled water from her wash basin lay beside a small pile of leaves. Her eyes widened at the sight, but she cleared her throat and casually strolled to a small seating area near the fireplace. She silently breathed an air of gratitude as he joined her and sat across from her, his eyes never leaving her face. She resisted the urge to wither under his gaze, but could sense there was more curiosity than suspicion in his eyes, and for that she was again grateful.
"You are well?" he asked. His eyes traced the lines of her vallaslin before looking at her hair briefly.
"I am…" she looked into the fire, as though searching the flames for answers. "Here." She said, finally. She smiled half-heartedly before attempting to stand.
A sudden swing of vertigo hit her and she lost her balance. Solas rose to meet her, catching her by the arm, and steadying her. Gently bringing her eyes to meet his, his fingers gingerly clasped her chin.
He exhaled through his nose, his mind seemingly resolved on something.
"I'm fine," she reassured him, feeling a disappointment settle deep within her when he let her go abruptly.
"You do not appear fine," he said.
"Turns out being thrust through time can do that to a person," she laughed. "Not to mention learning of our mysterious foe's nefarious plans. It was bad enough when it was just the breach…"
Solas smirked, but shook his head softly. "Serana Lavellan." His index finger softly slid down her temple, leaving a trail of warmth behind. "Where do you keep the key to this trove of secrets?"
"Do you guard none of your own, Solas?" Serana asked breathily. She could smell cedar on his skin, a faint reminder of the forest. It made her swallow nervously.
Solas laughed. "We all carry the weight of secrets. It is of our choosing whether they rule us as our master, or whether we rule over them."
"And which camp do you fall into?" Serana said with an arched brow.
Solas' smile lifted to one side before grimacing at the sound of heavy knocking at the door.
With a grimace of her own, Serana opened the door to find an Inquisition courier. A note from Cassandra outlined plans for their troops to move into the Temple of Andraste within the next several hours.
Serana held her breath, nerves threatening to overtake her. She rubbed her forehead before thanking the runner and turned to Solas. She relayed the message's contents, and he seemed surprised at the sudden swift decision to march on the breach today. He also noted his concern that their council did not inform her of their plans during their meeting the day prior.
"It was an option," Serana said, tapping the note pensively. "I just assumed the final group of mages we had been waiting for wouldn't be here until this evening, delaying the march until tomorrow. Seems I was wrong."
There was a thick silence in the cabin. Serana looked at the note, pretending to reread it, all the while feeling the weight of Solas' gaze fixed on her.
"Serana," he said softly. "You will be safe."
Serana looked at him, fighting the sensation of tears beginning to form behind her eyes. She hated that feeling. She sniffed reflexively before nodding.
"You have my back?" She said, recovering quickly with a coy smile.
"Yes," he said with a twinkle in his eyes, his voice low.
Solas walked past her, looking down at the note in her hands as he did so.
"This is a conflict where all races have come together as one, but for how long?" He said thoughtfully. "Be wary of giving your trust freely. May it be hard-earned, friend. You are worth it."
Solas reached for her ear, causing Serana to tense slightly. He pulled back a small leaf from behind it and held it up between them for a moment. "You are welcomely peculiar, Serana."
Smiling, he exited the cabin, leaf in hand.
Serana stood there in silence for a few moments after his departure. She assumed he meant placing her trust in the other races fighting alongside them, but was she to assume he meant even him? She felt a chill run up her spine; excitement, fear, wonder. She could feel her protective walls beginning to grow thin when around him. She hoped her emotions did not lead her intuition astray. Shaking all thought from her mind, she prepared herself for the daunting plans laid out before them.
"Nothing like fighting a mysterious evil being with untold power," she thought sardonically, standing in front of her looking glass once more. "Let's just survive the day, shall we?" she said aloud, letting her hair loose and picking out the errant leaves.
"Focus past the Herald. Let her will draw from you," Solas directed the mages gathered around the breach.
Serana felt the tension building inside her nearly explode before instinctively reaching her hand toward the giant tear. A burst of energy sprang forth from her like tendrils of lyrium coiling itself around a stone. Serana growled as the tension morphed into a heat that traveled from her scalp down to her feet.
Solas, feet planted firmly with both hands gripping his staff tightly, watched Serana intently. The mages all around them began to groan, their efforts beginning to tax them. He leaned forward, willing his strength into her, when he noticed a growing effervescent light enveloping Serana. Off to his left, Solas could hear Cassandra yelling to him, something about helping the Herald, but he was rendered mute by what saw; Serana's hair, the color of burnt amber, gradually becoming silver streaks from root to tip.
Serana closed her fist, her eyes snapping open at the same time. The breach was closed. She stood tall, her chest heaving from the exertion, but her face resolute with calm. Loose wisps of silver hair framed her face delicately, belying the strength in her eyes.
Solas' relief was palpable as he heaved a great sigh, allowing his tense muscles to relax. When she met his gaze, he felt a stir of bewilderment settling deep within him; confounded by the enthralling and perplexing woman that had crashed into his life without warning.
Inside the Chantry, people ran and gathered what they could with a purpose. Cole sat beside a clearly perishing Chancellor Roderick who was murmuring indiscernible phrases with glassed over eyes. Serana eyed the pair with a grave expression. Her thoughts circled chaotically around how to get their forces out safely.
Cullen pulled her aside, his voice low yet urgent. In very few words, he described their current predicament at which Cole spoke up and described a passage that could be used to escape. Apparently, the Chancellor had known of the secret passage from his pilgrimage, and alluded to this knowledge as perhaps being given to him by Andraste herself for this very moment.
Serana said nothing for a while. She felt the weight of her fate nearly crush her, but she stood tall. She could not understand how this was all meant to protect her people, but perhaps allowing the Inquisition to escape would allow another to rise and protect the world from their horrifying enemy.
"I will go," Serana said finally. "I will use the chaos in the village left by the dragon's wake to sneak past the Red Templar forces and fire the trebuchet."
Cullen nodded his agreement, and as they continued speaking Solas made his presence known with a scrape of his staff on the stone floor.
As Serana resolved to embark on the perilous mission alone, a conflict raged within Solas—a tempest of concern and reluctance that stirred the depths of his being. He grappled with the overwhelming urge to shield her from harm and the realization that he couldn't bear to see her face such a risk alone.
"The avalanche will kill you," Solas said incredulously.
"I am not the savior of the world, Solas!" Serana felt her eyes grow warm with unspilled tears. "I am not the single point of failure–"
"No." Solas' tone was unmistakably severe. "If you perish, who will close the remaining rifts?" He inwardly winced at how casually he seemed to belittle her value to him. The flicker of hurt in her eyes did not go unnoticed, and he gently pulled her away from Cullen.
The specter of past battles and the loss of comrades haunted Solas, casting a shadow over his determination to protect Serana. He admired her strength, the same strength that had impressed him on the battlefield, and he recognized the depths of her resolve. Yet, the thought of her venturing into danger without a companion to share the burden ignited an internal conflict that tugged at the seams of his usually composed demeanor.
The echo of his past, where sacrifices had been made for causes grand and obscure, resonated within Solas. A flicker of guilt lingered—a recognition that perhaps he was too familiar with the heavy toll such endeavors could exact. And yet, the magnetic pull of his growing feelings for Serana urged him to act, to defy the logic of self-preservation and stand by her side.
Serana rested her head against the pillar behind her, her expression unreadable. Solas took a decisive step toward her, until their faces were mere inches apart. His gaze bore into hers, a mix of uncertainty and unwavering determination etched in his eyes.
"Serana, there are sentiments that elude my understanding," his brow furrowed, searching for how to accurately capture the tempest raging within, and he swallowed. "Like whispers in the Fade that resist interpretation. Yet, in the complexity of our shared journey, there's a certainty that resonates within me."
His breath mingled with hers, the gravity of his words underscoring the vulnerability he rarely allowed himself to reveal.
"I don't possess the clarity to unravel these emotions, but I am certain of one truth—I do not wish to lose you. The prospect of your absence carries a weight I am unwilling to bear."
Serana, caught in the gravity of his admission, felt the resonance of his words stir something within her. The unspoken tension lingered in the charged air between them.
In that intimate moment, Solas' proximity and candid admission revealed a vulnerability that betrayed his usual stoicism. The shadows of uncertainty danced in his eyes, yet the unwavering determination to keep her by his side was a beacon amid all of the conflicting emotions.
She pushed off the pillar slowly, their faces closer than before.
"Let us finish this," she whispered, side-stepping him and closing the distance to the Chantry doors.
"Not without us, kid," Varric said, dismounting Bianca from his back.
Cassandra gave Serana a defiant smirk, arming herself as well.
Serana turned to see Solas at her back.
"I have your back, lethallan," he said with a small smirk and nod. As he stepped forward to join her, his expression masked the tumult within—a stoic facade concealing the turbulence of his emotions. Solas, adamant in his resolve, steeled himself for the challenges that lay ahead, determined not to let Serana face the treacherous path alone, even if it meant confronting the shadows of his own past.
Feeling renewed by the faith instilled in her by her companions, and by Solas' admission, Serana led them through the doors back into the destruction of Haven.