~Thirteen~
Dorian groaned as the pounding at his door grew louder, violently pulling him from restful slumber.
"Alright!" he yelled, muttering profanities as he roughly pulled on a pair of pants and made for the door.
Swinging the door open forcefully, his face quickly changed from aggravation to concern at the sight of Serana's shaking and sweaty countenance.
He pulled her into his room, and placing his hands on her shoulders, his eyes scanned her for any sign of physical harm.
Dorian's voice was low, yet firm, as he closed his eyes and sent a wave of calming magic into her. "Nightmare?"
"Solas," she breathed out, tears slowly streaming down her face. Her gaze remained fixed on Dorian's bare chest, seemingly lost in the swirling tempest of her thoughts. "He's hurt."
Her eyes finally met his, and the flicker of rage that passed through her gaze did not go unnoticed.
"Come," he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her along with him as he led them toward her room.
The pitter-patter of their bare feet against the cool marble floor echoed in the empty hallways. Reaching Serana's bedroom, Dorian stopped at the door which was slightly ajar. A soft groaning could be heard coming from inside. He pressed his hand against the door, letting it clink softly against the back wall. His eyes widened at the sight of Solas splayed out on his back. He let go of Serana's hand abruptly, dashing toward the fellow mage.
Kneeling beside the injured elf, Dorian's hands gently pried the singed garments from the wound, wincing at the sound of garment tearing from flesh. Solas' eyes remained closed, soft groans escaping him every few seconds.
"What happened here?" Dorian looked up at Serana in alarm. He watched her as she stood there, her eyes wild, never leaving Solas' wounded and limp form.
"Serana!" Dorian's voice reverberated sharply as he called out to her. "Close the door and come here."
Serana did as he asked, her movements mindless and sluggish. Kneeling down next to Dorian, she closed her eyes tightly, images from the Fade invading her vision mercilessly. She gasped out a small cry, unconsciously recoiling at Dorian's touch. She opened her eyes, wet with unshed tears, and warily met her friend's gaze.
"I did this," she whispered, her hands scrubbing at her face harshly.
Dorian's hand glowed a soft blue as waves of healing magic washed over Solas' chest. The wound's appearance remained the same, no matter the effort and mana he poured into his spell.
"Ackh!" The Tevinter cried out in frustration, his exertion depleting his reserve. "I cannot undo the damage done to him. This magic… it's raw..." He rubbed at his jaw, his tired eyes lingering on the greenish glow of the brand. "This is rift magic," he concluded, his eyes meeting Serana's steadily.
"Serana, you say you did this, but how?" he asked, a hint of wonder in his eyes. "Was it your anchor?"
She shook her head, her eyes still bearing a hint of wildness. "I… we were in the Fade. A dream…" Her gaze trailed off, past Dorian and Solas, to the elaborately painted designs on the wall behind the bed. "I didn't know," she whispered, shaking her head once more, tears spilling onto her cheeks. "I didn't know!" she cried out, sobbing profusely, as she buried her head in her hands.
Dorian rose and embraced his friend, soothingly rubbing her back as she cried into the crook of his neck. He watched Solas' strained breathing, and an idea began to bloom in his mind. He leaned back, lifting Serana's gaze to meet his. "If you can do this kind of damage, you are more than likely able to undo it. Come."
He helped her kneel closer to Solas' body, positioning her open hands over the radiating burn. Smoothing her hair back behind her ear, Dorian patted her back gently. "Darling," he said, his voice carrying a subtle depth of sadness. "I will help you however I can, but you have to pull it together and reach into the source of what made this," his hand motioned to Solas' chest. "I will put him to sleep, but you must do the rest."
She nodded, recomposing herself through a last sniffle, as she straightened her back. Her hands still hovering over Solas, she noticed his breathing slow to a shallow rhythm as if in a deep sleep. She closed her eyes, remembering the first time she tried to close a rift through sheer willpower. Solas' words echoed into her mind, his advice to envision the tear in her mind and mend it. Images of his face, his lips, his tender gaze, filled her vision, filling her with peace and a warm sensation in her heart that spread throughout her body.
Soft green waves of magic pulsed over Solas' chest, his skin visibly healing and the glow of the burn slowly fading. Then, the image of him hooded, looming over Felassan came to the forefront of her mind, the realization that he was Fen'harel burrowed into her like a screeching broodmother gnawing at her skull.
"Serana!" Dorian's alarmed tone cut through her focus.
Her eyes snapped open, and she looked in horror at the way Solas' wound seemed to be reopening, delving further into his flesh, down to the sinew of his muscles. She yanked her hands back, balling them into fists as she held them to her chest. Her breathing ragged, she looked at Dorian, confusion plainly written on her face.
"Whatever you started thinking about– don't." He warned, a grave look on his face.
She nodded, swallowing dryly and taking a deep breath before splaying her hands out over Solas' chest once more. Eyes closed, she mustered all of her willpower to avoid the thoughts of recent events, choosing instead to think on the strength of her emotion, her love, for Solas. The hurt of discovering he had been concealing who he truly was nothing compared to the hurt of witnessing him about to murder the man she loved as a brother. She pushed the thoughts back, hearing Dorian's hiss at what she supposed was a reversal of her healing again.
Unbiddenly, she thought of her mother, the images she could recall of her in her dreams. The love she felt even in those memories restored a greater sense of peace and calm within her. She sighed into the memories' warm caress.
"That's it," Dorian said, watching the wound heal fully. "You've done it." His voice was filled with awestruck wonder.
Serana opened her eyes, amazed at the sight before her. Solas' chest was completely healed, with no scars visible, not even the scars from the night Corypheus attacked Haven. Her hands fell into her lap, and she watched his chest rise and fall steadily. She turned to look at Dorian with fresh tears in her eyes.
"We don't have to talk about it now," Dorian whispered, "but, I am here for you, my dear." He brushed a tear away with the pad of his thumb, before pulling her into a tight embrace. Suppressing the overwhelming dread welling within him, he held her tightly as she wept quietly in his arms.
After a few moments, they both stood and began strategizing the best method for moving Solas back into the bed. With their combined efforts, the sleeping mage was gently positioned under the covers, thick pillows nestled beneath his head. Serana thanked Dorian with a kiss on the cheek, reassuring him that she would be fine, that all was truly well, and that she would come find him later in the morning. Dorian looked unconvinced, but respected her wishes, sparing one last glance at Solas' sleeping form before heading back to his room down the hall.
Serana climbed into bed and laid on her side, tracing Solas' bare chest with her fingers. All manner of thoughts and emotions threatened to spill forth, but she pushed them away, resting her head on her pillow and closing her eyes, hand still on his chest. Sleep claimed her in mere moments, her efforts to heal Solas thoroughly exhausting her. She fell into a void-like emptiness, the realm between the Fade and the Veil, where none tread willingly.
The soft glow of morning light gently illuminated the room, casting a warm hue upon the ornately decorated space. The vivid remnants of a dream still clung to Solas' consciousness, and as he turned, he found Serana asleep beside him. He tensed, a barrage of emotions that he was both unwilling and unable to decipher settling noxiously in the pit of his stomach.
The memory of an unexpected blast, the echo of her voice in distress, and the mysterious healing lingered in his mind. He reached for his chest, half-expecting to feel the lingering burn scar, but to his surprise, there was no trace of the once-prominent mark, nor any indication of their encounter in the Fade.
Panic and confusion welled within him. The inexplicable absence of the wound left him grappling with conflicting emotions. She knew. She knew the truth, but not the whole of it, and the thought made him feel sick. It wasn't the idea of her knowing that made him ill, but the knowledge of how she had come upon the secret he had so carefully guarded for almost two years. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, wincing at the memory of her voice crying out in the Fade.
His stomach twisted at the sight she stumbled upon, finding him standing over Felassan, poised to deliver a decisive blow in response to the perceived betrayal of trust. The initial wave of dread swiftly transformed into anger, fueled by the frustration of another opportunity to access the crossroads being thwarted—particularly by a woman who represented a mere echo of the true Elvhen. Felassan's choice to align with Briala was a betrayal not only to him but to their entire people. While he hadn't harbored a desire to take pleasure in the death of his old friend, and it wasn't his initial plan, Felassan's staunch refusal to support him, despite claiming to share a common purpose for so long, triggered a profound pain within him. In that moment in the Fade, that deep-seated anguish instinctively manifested as a violent response.
As he contemplated the whole of his predicament, the urge to distance himself, to flee before she woke, clawed at his insides. He reached for his clothes, ready to retreat into the shadows, but as he stood, his gaze lingered on Serana's sleeping form.
A profound ache settled in his chest, and the realization that leaving her would be an unbearable choice tightened its grip. The clothes were placed back on the side, and he decided against escape. Solas slid back into the bed beside her, his eyes fixed on the gentle rise and fall of her chest.
In that quiet moment, he resolved to confront the complexities that bound them together, even if the revelations brought pain. As he lay next to her, the gravity of the truth she now held seemed less heavy. All of those months agonizing over how he would reveal himself to her, and there she lay beside him, no longer in the dark about his true nature. He knew the ire he would have to face, if not for his deception, then for what he was willing to do to her surrogate brother. He felt wild, reckless even, at the thought of being willing to face anything, if only to be near her.
Sighing, he slowly rose from the bed and dressed himself, quietly leaving the room in search of food. He silently hoped the walk would clear his head and prepare him for the brewing storm that lay asleep at the moment.
Solas entered the room after his walk to find Serana had awoken. Still in a nightshirt, she paced from one end of the room to the other. He closed the door behind him, steeling himself to be on the receiving end of her fury.
Serana's gaze was a storm of emotions as she confronted him, the air thick with tension. The room seemed to shrink as she continued her agitated pacing, her words biting with a sharp edge. "I must admit, I never thought the day would come when I'd be in bed with the Dread Wolf. How foolish of me to believe I could trust anyone, especially a god."
Solas winced at the bitterness in her words, his eyes flickering with a mixture of regret and understanding. "Serana, I—"
"Don't," she interrupted, raising a hand to silence him. "I don't want to hear your excuses, Fen'harel. I trusted you, cared for you, and this is how you repay me? With lies and deceit?"
His expression held a trace of sorrow, but she wasn't in the mood for remorse. She stopped pacing, her eyes locked onto his, each step towards him deliberate. "You lied to me. All of that nonsense about meeting a spirit in the Fade who spoke of Fen'harel and his noble cause… Damn you! I'm such a fool." Her voice shook with the intensity of her ire.
Solas straightened, his back against the bookshelf, his gaze meeting hers with a heavy weight. "Serana, I never meant to—"
"Save it," she spat, cutting him off again. "I should have known better than to get involved with someone like you. A trickster, a deceiver."
He felt the weight of her words like a blow, his heart sinking. "Serana, you know that is not true."
Her laughter was bitter, a harsh sound that reverberated through the room. "Isn't it? There's nothing you can say that will justify what I've learned. I trusted you with my heart, my body, all I have to offer, and you played me for a fool."
The air hung heavy with an unspoken truth, and Solas knew he had shattered something irreparable. Serana turned away, her back to him, her shoulders tense with a mix of anger and hurt. The room echoed with the silence of fractured trust, and he struggled with the weight of the consequences of his actions. A sudden surge of anger flourished within him, aggrieved by her willingness to lash out at him without giving him an opportunity to explain himself. Memories surfaced of her sweet voice practically pleading with him to open up to her, tell her all he kept hidden, promising she would not turn away– yet, here she was, spurning him at his weakest; vulnerable and exposed, for all he was worth was laid bare.
He growled in frustration, grabbing her by the shoulders and turning her to face him. "You hold but a mere fraction of the truth in your hands, and you choose to wield it like a sword. It's not right. It's not fair. To me. To us."
The simmering rage that once consumed her gaze slowly ebbed away, the tense lines around her lips smoothing as she marginally relaxed into his touch. She felt a flicker of guilt, a sense that perhaps her reaction was a bit extreme– she mentally conceded that she too would have guarded such a secret just as fervently, if she were him.
Her eyes dropped to his neck, unable to meet his gaze any longer for fear that she would lose herself in those deep pools of lavender. She straightened, mustering the remnants of her anger to pose the question that was truly driving her mad.
"Felassan." Her eyes met his, the intensity of her gaze eliciting his grip on her shoulders to tense. "You were going to kill him."
"Is that a question?" His voice held a rare quality, as his eyes remained trained on hers.
"Tsk. Ridiculous," Serana hissed, shrugging out from beneath his touch. She crossed her arms, her hip jutting out to one side as she eyed him defiantly. "Don't play the fool, Solas. You know what I want to know– Why? Why were you going to…" She suppressed a shiver at the memory of him towering over Felassan's kneeling form.
Solas looked at her through weary eyes, all of his grief and fatigue evident for a split second before resuming his calm façade.
"He made a promise." His gaze faltered, feeling the heavy scrutiny of her stare as she arched her brow.
He turned and walked toward the window, looking at the grand display of nobility arriving at the palace. Sneering derisively, he closed the curtains, the room now dimly lit by the sun's rays peeking through the ruffles and the soft glow of the fireplace.
"He deceived me," Solas' dry voice rang out, his gaze veiled by a passing fury. "For months. I trusted him to aid me, and instead of honoring his oath, he chose to ally himself with another; to sacrifice all I have worked so hard for, all in order to restore what we've lost…" He closed his eyes, a pained expression etched in his face as he shook his head softly.
"You'll have to give me a bit more than that," she said sharply, slightly surprised by his glare. She stood tall, challenging his gaze with her fiery stare. "Well? What exactly was he helping you with?"
He swallowed loudly, his nerves threatening to get the better of him. "A vast network of eluvians that belonged to my people. To me. He was meant to retrieve a passphrase set by the one who found them in this age, essentially barring anyone else from their use."
"Even you?" Serana asked with a perplexed look.
"Yes." Solas clasped his hands behind his back, his jaw visibly tightening.
"Why can't you ask this person for it yourself?" Serana asked, ignoring his openly incredulous expression.
"Felassan already had a lengthy history with her. I was hoping he would leverage that relationship in order to get that which I sought."
"How calculatingly cold of you," she said tersely. "Conscripting him to betray his lover."
"Lover?" Solas shook his head, "He was like a mentor to her. A brother." Averting his eyes, he softly added, "Much like he is to you."
Serana was taken aback. Felassan would often disappear for months at a time, but he never told her anything, or spoke of anyone in particular, that would make Solas' words in that moment make any sense.
She felt cold at the thought that gripped her suddenly. "And me?"
Solas arched an eyebrow, clearly not tracking her line of thinking.
"Did you leverage your past with Fel in order to get to me?"
"Why would I do such a thing?" He scoffed disbelievingly. "The fact that you two even knew each other surprised me."
"Right. Either way, I suppose I must not have anything special to offer for you to muster up such a conniving plot. What's the saying? May the Dread Wolf take you—"
Solas grabbed her, pulling her to him with a shocking quickness. His body pressed tightly against hers, one hand on the small of her back, the other burying itself in her hair as he gave her a bruising kiss. She tensed under him, unmoving for a moment before easing in his arms, returning his kiss with equal parts zeal and anger. He pulled away from her, breathless, his eyes dark. She met his fiery gaze unflinchingly.
"Allow me to disabuse you of that notion, my dear," he murmured, his lips hovering over hers. "You have offered me more than I deserve. My feelings for you are genuine, as am I. There is nothing left to hide."
Serana wanted to break free from his hold, push him away, be angry with him and give into a petulant flare for the dramatic, but was instantly dissuaded by the look in his eyes. His gaze held a vulnerability she had only caught glimpses of before this moment. There was a profound sadness lurking in his eyes, a silent declaration of all he lost and felt responsible for losing. She opened her mouth, closing it as she realized there was nothing she felt prepared to say. As they stood there, still wrapped in a tight embrace, she simply knew one thing: she loved him. She loved the Dread Wolf, and he had taken her heart in one fell swoop.
Solas' eyes searched hers intently, earnestly hoping against hope that she could forgive him.
"Serana," he whispered brokenly, slowly releasing his hold on her. "I pray you find it in your heart to forgive me." Pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, he traced the bow of her lips with his thumb. "Until then, I stand at the ready by your side, come what may."
She felt frozen in place as he brushed past her. The sound of his retreat and the door closing behind her broke something deep inside her that she didn't know was there. She let out a dry chuckle, and her body shook with a laughter that abruptly morphed into heavy sobs. She fell to her knees, letting the overflow of emotion pour out of her with no resistance.
Her sobs echoed in the quiet room as she knelt on the floor, her emotions a chaotic tempest. The weight of her love for him rested heavily on her shoulders. The pain of betrayal mingled with the undeniable truth that her heart still longed for him.
After a while, she managed to compose herself, wiping away the tears that clung to her cheeks. Serana rose to her feet, the room feeling emptier than before. She decided to put off making any decisions until after the ball that evening. The grand event at the Winter Palace loomed ahead, an opportunity to mask her inner turmoil with the façade of elegance and grace.
The hours passed slowly as she prepared for the ball, the ornate black gown serving as armor against the vulnerability that threatened to consume her. In the reflection of the mirror, Serana saw a woman with a fractured heart, struggling to reconcile the love she felt with the revelations that had shaken her to the core.