~ Eight ~
Skyhold stood tall and beaming in all of its ethereal beauty. The fortress, perched high amidst the mountains, was bathed in the soft glow of magic, its architecture seamlessly integrated with the surrounding natural elements. The atmosphere hummed with ancient energy, and the land surrounding the keep was adorned with mystical flora and fauna, reflecting the ancient Elvhen souls bounding to and fro. Serana walked through the Fade's memory of the place she currently slept in. She could sense the absence of the Veil, amazed at how freely the magical aspects of the realm coincided with the physical. It's allure reminding her vaguely of her protected pocket in the forests of what was now known as the Free Marches.
A cloaked figure stood on the balcony overlooking the hold, his gaze appraising the inhabitants below. Standing tall and erect, his mysterious presence radiated an air of confident poise. His shoulders were squared, and spine straightened, creating a harmonious alignment from head to toe. With a subtle grace, his chin remained parallel to the ground, chest subtly lifted, reflecting a sense of self-assurance. His posture conveyed both physical strength and a composed demeanor, his arms locked behind the small of his back. A thick fur clung to his left shoulder, wrapping around the right side of his waist, long flowing black robes nestled beneath it.
Standing at the base of the keep's steps, Serana's breath caught as the hooded figure seemed to be looking directly at her. In all of her travels in the Fade, Serana had never been perceived directly by anything other than spirits or demons. Yet there she was, with what she surmised could only be a memory of an ancient being looking directly at her, acknowledging her invasion of an ancient past. She felt a chill run down her spine, unsure whether she was afraid or curious; perhaps both.
The figure turned abruptly, disappearing into the main dormitory. Serana ran up the steps, dashing through the main hall toward the main quarters' door. Amplifying her ability within the Fade, she propelled herself forward, the sensation as if gliding on air. Racing up the steps toward the dormitory, she found the mysterious figure standing with his back toward her, facing the open balcony doors. The long sheer curtains blew across his back with the gentle breeze.
Serana felt herself grow cold, adrenaline coursing through her with a marked intensity.
"Who are you?" she called out, her voice echoing into the dark room.
The shadowy figure turned his face to the side, his profile still obscured by the oversized hood. A distant howl could be heard through the open doors, familiar and discerning. Serana's eyes darted back to the mysterious man who was now facing her. She felt herself still, mesmerized by a pair of vibrant glowing white eyes staring back at her. He extended his hand toward her. Her anchor rippled with energy, and she looked down at it in surprise, feeling not pain, but a warmth of magic flowing through her, enveloping her in a soft caress. She sighed, her head tilting back, as the warmth spread to every part of her, filling her with an overwhelming sense of acceptance and love. A deep longing began to form deep within her and she gasped in rapture. Her eyes locked onto the man's gaze and she resisted the urge to buckle under the weight of the magic coursing through her, her body saturated with desire by the compelling heat in his eyes.
A cacophony of cawing crows disrupted her trance-like state and her anchor ceased to glow. Gasping for air, Serana stared at the figure, his arms at his sides, face still obscured. With a slow nod, he vanished behind the curtains being blown about, as if a mist carried by the wind. The sounds of crows cawing without ceasing grew to be unbearable, driving Serana to press her hands over her ears, the pitch drilling itself into her subconscious. Serana screamed, trying to match the riotous noise with her own defiant yell, the action propelling her back into consciousness. Bolting upright in bed, her chest heaved up and down wildly. She stared out the glass doors opposite her bed as her breathing slowly returned to normal.
As she stared through the closed glass panes, Serana felt perplexed by her dreamwalk. She watched in silence as the dawn unfolded its tender embrace, the horizon blushing with hues of soft apricot and golden amber. Gentle wisps of rose and tangerine painted the canvas of the sky, casting a delicate glow upon the awakening world. The sun, ascending with graceful purpose, scattered the remnants of night's shadows. Each ray kissed the landscape, coaxing it from slumber. The world, bathed in the warm palette of sunrise, contrasted sharply with the loud cawing of Leliana's crows in the staircase.
Closing her eyes tightly, the vision of the hooded man eclipsed all else. Remembering the feeling that overtook her at his outstretched hand, she felt a heat grow in her belly that threatened to spread lower. She felt at a loss as she remembered the sensation of complete and utter love and desire that had enveloped her. Who was he; and how did he enter her dream? Serana fought to regain control of her thoughts as she got out of bed slowly.
She was confident that she had been accessing a memory of Skyhold, just as Solas had taught her, stored deep within the Fade, but still could not come to terms with having an intruder in her travels. She shook her head as she denied the possibility of her being the intruder and walking into the mysterious figure's dream. Knowing Solas would be the perfect person to ask regarding her strange encounter, she decided against it. She was not prepared to share the feelings evoked within the Fade, and certainly not with the man she was interested in romantically, their situation as precarious as it already was.
She took some time to get herself prepared for the day, making small adjustments to her packed bags for the upcoming caravan to Orlais. As she did so, she thought about the last few weeks without Solas. Hawke's contact in the Grey Wardens, Alistair, had yet to respond to Hawke's letters, leaving Marian no choice but to begin tracking him from his last known location. Serana missed having the fellow rogue around. They would often retreat to the Herald's Rest after dinner and play a game of wicked grace with Varric and Iron Bull.
Hawke's company was especially comforting after Solas' weeks-long journey to investigate a lead on a mysterious Elven artifact he said could strengthen the Veil in weakened areas. She knew he was safe, especially in the company of Cassandra and Blackwall, but she still worried about him. It didn't help that she missed him desperately. He had left early the next morning after their little spicy encounter in his study, and the memory of his warm body pressed against her while they kissed passionately still made her loins ache with an ardent desire. Dorian still poked fun at her every chance he got, but she secretly enjoyed the banter.
Serana stood before her looking glass, pinning errant hairs into place before pushing her fish-tail braid toward her back. For some reason the appearance of her silver hair felt more like her than her darker hair ever did. Serana found the comments regarding her new appearance after the breach's closure odd– that anyone would focus so intently on her hair's color baffled her amidst all of the other drastic changes taking place around them. The fact that it reminded her of her mother's appearance in her dreams only served to give her a greater appreciation for her newly colored mane.
With a deep breath, Serana made her way down the stairs. In a flash, a black and white falcon darted through one of the small open archways, landing gracefully on the perch near the door leading to the main hall. It cocked its head, looking at Serana with intelligent eyes. She smiled as she slowly approached the raptor. It clicked softly at her as she carefully removed a tightly rolled-up note from a clawed talon. The bird ducked its head before taking off through the same space it entered through.
Serana unrolled the note, a smile already forming on her lips.
Serana,
Our quest for the artifact has been unsuccessful so far, yet promising leads point to a small ruin in the Hinterlands. Regrettably, time is against us, and the artifact must be left for now.
In moments of silence, your absence is deeply felt. I long for you beyond the limits of expression. Our shared kisses and touches linger in my thoughts, pleasantly haunting my mind.
As I write this, we ready ourselves for the journey back to Skyhold. By the time you read this, we'll be merely a day's ride away from reuniting. I eagerly await that moment.
Yours,
Solas
The crackling flames cast a warm glow upon the campsite, dancing shadows playing off Blackwall and Solas' faces. Off to their side, Cassandra slept deeply, her quiet snores occasionally causing them to look over. The night air was thick with a chill, prompting the need for the comforting embrace of the campfire's warmth. The warrior and mage sat in companionable silence, a quiet shared between kindred spirits.
Blackwall, gazing into the flickering flames, cleared his throat before breaking the stillness. "Solas," he began, his voice a low rumble, "I've noticed something between you and the Inquisitor. Are you two... together?"
Solas, his expression guarded, met Blackwall's gaze. After a measured pause, he replied, "Yes, we are."
The revelation hung in the air, and Blackwall nodded, understanding glinting in his eyes. "Good for you, friend. She's a remarkable woman."
Solas nodded in acknowledgment, but inwardly, his thoughts churned like a tempestuous sea. He felt the weight of unspoken truths and hidden intentions pressing on his chest. The firelight played on his features, revealing the conflict etched in the lines of his face.
Blackwall, sensing the reticence, decided not to press further, choosing instead to let the quiet camaraderie linger. The night deepened, and the only sounds were the crackle of the flames and the whispers of the night breeze.
As they sat in the shadows of their veiled thoughts, Solas wrestled with the complexities of his connection with Serana. The warmth of the fire couldn't dispel the chill of his inner turmoil, a storm concealed beneath a calm exterior.
Solas perched on the edge of his bedroll, his gaze fixed beyond the flickering dance of the small campfire.
Blackwall, finishing the last bite of dried meat, observed the mage, sitting cross-legged in contemplative silence.
"You remind me of someone I used to know. He was fascinated with the Fade and spirits too," Blackwall remarked, a grin playing on his lips.
"A mage?" Solas inquired, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"No, just a man who liked eating these strange purple cactus berries," the warrior chuckled. "I don't think he was ever actually in the Fade."
Solas responded with a light chuckle, the camaraderie lifting his spirits. Their journey back to Skyhold, now less than a day's ride away, seemed to cast a hopeful glow over the camp.
He reclined onto his bedroll, the warmth of the dwindling campfire casting a soft glow on his features. As he prepared for sleep, Solas couldn't help but let his thoughts wander to Serana.
In his mind's eye, he envisioned her with her beautiful silver hair cascading in gentle waves, a moonlit waterfall framing her face. Her vallaslin troubled him, not because of what the markings had come to represent before the Veil, but because of who they were meant to honor. Casting aside the temptation to brood, his thoughts returned to the image of Serana. The warmth of her amber eyes, pools of understanding and depth, lingered in his imagination. A soft smile touched his lips as he conjured the memory of her lithe figure, gracefully moving through the world.
The recollection of their shared moments intensified—the touch of her hand, the curve of her lips. His thoughts delved into the enigma of her presence, both in the waking world and the elusive realms of the Fade. a spectral presence that left an indelible mark on his consciousness.
Solas' travel through the Fade the night prior lingered in the recesses of his mind, like fragments of an ancient mural painted with memories and yearning. Skyhold, standing proudly as he knew it once, became the backdrop for a dance he did not expect to take place. As a silent observer, Solas watched Serana marvel in awe at the merging of magic and the physical. He was surprised when she noticed him, and when she raced up the steps to investigate further. He could have left at that moment, but he chose to share this small piece of him with her. Not ready to fully reveal himself, Solas chose to give her a glimpse of who he truly was, and somehow show her all of the feelings she inspired within him.
His connection to the anchor provided him the perfect opportunity to instill in her the very essence of his affections for her, down to the flames of desire pooling within him. The echoes of that dream now played like a haunting melody in Solas' thoughts, leaving him to ponder the intricate dance of fate and destiny that was unfolding between them, both in dreams and waking reality.
The rest of the ride back to Skyhold took longer than anticipated. Encountering a rift, Cassandra thought it best they take an alternate, but longer route back to the fortress.
As the journey stretched into unexpected hours due to the altered route, Solas couldn't help but inwardly bristle with frustration at the extended time on the road. The weariness settled in, and the landscape seemed to drag on longer than anticipated. However, amid the subtle annoyance, he found a flicker of comfort in the thought of Serana eagerly awaiting his return.
Imagining her presence in Skyhold became a mental refuge, a warm haven amidst the wearisome travel. He pictured her awaiting him, her eyes brightening with a spark of recognition and warmth as he entered the familiar halls of the fortress. The image of her patiently anticipating his return managed to soften the edges of his discontent, offering a glimmer of comfort amid the prolonged journey.
In his mind's eye, he could almost see the subtle smile that graced her lips, the silver strands of her hair catching the light as she turned to greet him. The thought of her waiting patiently, perhaps by the fireside or in her private quarters, became a source of solace that eased the burden of the extended travel.
Despite the challenges of the road, the anticipation of reuniting with Serana provided a subtle anchor, a reminder that the wearisome journey was but a temporary obstacle on the path back to the warmth of Skyhold and the comfort of her company. As his thoughts lingered on the beautiful rogue, he felt a subtle hint of distress lurking in the recesses of his subconscious, one he would have to acknowledge sooner rather than later. Shaking his head, he cleared his mind with an appreciable amount of willpower.
Standing on her balcony, Serana looked down over Skyhold's main grounds. She studied the place where she stood in her dream, remembering her surprise at the elusive man's presence. Her reverie broken by the tell-tale sound of Skyhold's gate opening, Serana gripped the balcony's ledge in anticipation. She resisted the urge to go bounding down the stairs like a lovesick pup, her knuckles white with the tightening of her grip. The sight of his bare head entering on horseback alongside Cassandra and Blackwall made her smile widely.
Solas dismounted his horse, brushing the mare gently along her mane. He exchanged inaudible words with the horsemaster, nodding his farewell. He stood appraising his surroundings for a moment before tilting his head upward with closed eyes.
"By the void, he is beautiful," Serana whispered into the cold night's air.
Solas opened his eyes slowly, his gaze searching the empty courtyard before walking toward the steps. His pace seemed casual, but Serana noticed the way he moved with purpose, each step deliberate and measured. The moonlight played on the contours of his face, casting a gentle glow on his features. Serana continued to watch in awe as he ascended the stairs, his eyes finally meeting hers. A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, coupled with a slight grin.
As she caught that familiar yet altered expression, Serana couldn't help but gasp, a sense of déjà vu tinged with an intriguing distinctiveness. The subtle nuance in his demeanor left her curious and her mind raced to unravel the mystery veiled in his playful gaze.
Disappearing from her view of the courtyard steps, Solas entered Skyhold. Serana closed her eyes, inhaling deeply as her heart beat wildly in her chest. They had not seen one another for several weeks, and their last meeting was marked by a passionate yet interrupted encounter. She felt a familiar heat spread through her as she recalled that night.
Serana's room was softly lit by the glow of a few strategically placed candles. The air was infused with a mix of herbs and lavender, creating a soothing atmosphere that seemed to beckon Solas forward. He entered cautiously, his eyes quickly finding Serana who stood on the balcony, the moonlight highlighting the silver strands of her hair.
Solas couldn't help the warmth that spread through him as he approached her. Serana turned, a smile playing on her lips as she saw him. The tension that often lingered between them dissipated, replaced by a quiet understanding. Solas took a moment to appreciate the tranquility of the room and the soft glow that accentuated Serana's features.
"Welcome back," Serana said, her voice a melodic invitation.
"Thank you," Solas replied, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. He studied her face quietly, following the curves of her vallaslin with his gaze. His inner conflict momentarily flickered in his eyes, but the warmth of her gaze beckoned him forward.
Serana approached him, her hands reaching for his. "I missed you," she confessed, her touch soothing and genuine.
"I missed you as well," Solas admitted, his fingers intertwining with hers. The room seemed to shrink as they stood in close proximity, the air thickening with unspoken emotions.
They sat on a small couch, the cushions giving way to their shared weight. Solas regarded Serana with a tender gaze, his fingers gently tracing patterns on the back of her hand. The flickering lantern light cast shadows that danced across her features, creating a captivating play of light and dark.
Serana sensed the internal struggle in Solas and placed a comforting hand on his cheek. "You seem troubled," she murmured.
Solas sighed, his eyes briefly closing as if to gather his thoughts. "There are things I must tell you, Serana."
Her gaze softened, understanding etched into her expression. "Then tell me when you're ready. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
The vulnerability in her eyes mirrored the ache in his heart, and Solas felt a rush of affection for the woman before him. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. In that simple gesture, he communicated a thousand unspoken words—his affection, his yearning, and his gratitude for her unwavering presence.
Wrapped in the warmth of Serana's embrace, Solas allowed himself to be momentarily free of the burdens that awaited him. He reached out, his fingers gently tracing the curve of her cheek. She leaned into his touch, her eyes locked onto his. There was a familiarity in the way they looked at each other, as if their souls recognized something deeper, something ancient.
"Solas," she whispered, her voice carrying a mixture of affection and longing.
He closed the distance between them, his lips seeking hers in a tender kiss. The connection was soft, yet charged with unvoiced emotions. Solas held her close, savoring the feeling of her in his arms. He could sense her heartbeat, a steady rhythm that resonated with his own.
Breaking the kiss, Solas looked into Serana's eyes. "Your last words to me that night have stuck with me," he declared, his voice a gentle murmur. "I wish to be worthy of you, Serana."
Serana smiled, a silent acknowledgment of the fervor between them. Solas traced a path along her jawline with his lips, leaving a trail of light kisses. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in a space where they were free of interruptions and bindings to duty.
As their kisses deepened, Solas felt a conflict within him. He yearned for Serana, desired her in a way that transcended the physical. Yet, the weight of his secrets lingered. He pulled away from their embrace slowly, noting the pang of disappointment that flickered across her face.
"Let us go for a walk," he said, pulling her up and into his arms, holding her tightly to him.
Serana cast a wary glance at him, narrowing her eyes with playful suspicion. "Are you afraid of what I'll do to you here, all alone?" She mused, coyly raising an eyebrow.
Solas chuckled. "I am more afraid of what I will do to you." He said, mischief twinkling in his eyes as he grabbed her hand and led her toward the stairs.
"Clearly you've forgotten our caravan sets off for the Winter Palace at first light tomorrow," she giggled, allowing herself to be led down the winding steps.
The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a gentle glow on the snowy landscape as Solas and Serana strolled through the quiet outskirts of Skyhold. The air was crisp, and the occasional sound of distant wind filled the silence between them.
As they walked, Solas' mind was heavy with the weight of his story. Finally, he spoke, his voice soft yet laden with the echoes of a primordial sorrow. "I once encountered a spirit in the Fade, a being that had witnessed the forgotten war between the Evanuris and the Forgotten Ones."
Serana turned her gaze toward him, sensing the gravity in his words. "Tell me," she urged, her voice barely more than a whisper.
Solas took a deep breath, the cold air momentarily crystallizing his exhale. "This spirit spoke of a time when Fen'Harel, walked in the midst of both factions. His allegiance was not to the Evanuris, but to a powerful Sorceress who was a dear friend."
The crunching of snow beneath their boots seemed to echo in the stillness as Solas continued his tale. "Fen'Harel sought to free the elves who were beholden to the Evanuris as slaves. He removed their markings, liberating them from their servitude."
Serana listened intently, her eyes reflecting the moonlight. "But," Solas hesitated, his expression pained, "he discovered a devastating betrayal. The Sorceress, his friend, was murdered along with her young daughter."
The weight of ancient grief hung in the air as Solas recounted the tale. "Learning of this betrayal sent Fen'Harel into a spiral of despair. In his grief, he channeled all his power into his foci, creating a powerful magic. With it, he cast both the Evanuris and the Forgotten Ones away into an unknown realm, creating the Veil."
As Solas finished the story, he met Serana's gaze. "The Veil, meant to sequester those he deemed deserving of punishment, inadvertently cut off the elves from their uninhibited access to magic, and making them mortal. It was a sacrifice that changed the course of our people's history."
Serana absorbed the weight of Solas' words, a familiar truth resonating within her. Memories of her clan's teachings on Fen'Harel flooded her mind, the reverence they held for the Dread Wolf. She felt a shiver down her spine as she asked the question that lingered in her thoughts.
"Was the powerful sorceress Mythal?" Serana inquired, recalling the tales where Fen'Harel and Mythal were spoken of as dear friends, their intertwined fates woven into the lore of her people.
Solas' expression darkened, a morose nod acknowledging her inquiry. The revelation hung heavy in the air, yet he remained guarded, concealing the truth that he was, in fact, the Dread Wolf himself. Fear and sorrow flickered in his eyes, a silent plea for understanding that lingered unspoken between them.
The walk back to Skyhold was cloaked in a heavy silence, both Solas and Serana lost in their own contemplations. Apprehension welled within Solas as he struggled to discern Serana's thoughts on the tale he had shared. Her guarded reaction left him unsettled, the unspoken tension hanging in the air.
As they reached the door to Serana's quarters, Solas prepared to bid her goodnight, unsure of the impact his revelation had on their budding connection. Before he could utter a word, Serana surprised him with a passionate kiss, leaving him momentarily stunned. The intensity of her lips against his was unexpected, and as she pulled away, she locked eyes with him, a fire burning in her gaze.
"Good night, Solas," she whispered, her words hanging in the quiet corridor as she swiftly darted into her room, leaving him standing there, perplexed by the sudden turn of events.
Solas felt a mix of emotions swirling within him – confusion, curiosity, and a lingering sense of apprehension. The weight of his mistakes with Corypheus and the fate of his people pressed upon him, but he clung to the hope that time would be his ally in mending the broken threads of his past, and perhaps, salvaging a future with Serana.