Welcome back to Dinanshral!

This is the first chapter of Banal Silaima, in which we follow Solas through his deepest, life altering memories.

These chapters are not written chronologically, so keep that in mind as you read.

Also, just so you know, we'll move back and forth through Sara and Solas' perspectives for the duration of Part 1.

Thanks and Shoutouts:

-Celestia8994: Thanks for the first EVER review, favorite and alert!

-Alakrux: Thanks for the alert!

I really enjoyed writing this, so I hope you enjoy reading it.

~Garnet

Banal Silaima I

Jealousy was not a color Solas wore well. He never had.

He was hot-headed when he was young and remembered more than one fight with other boys in the streets of Arlathan over many a pretty face. His first love was a nobleman's daughter, Oranna, with her pale orange hair and elegant smiles. He would hang out the window just for a look at her before his tutor pulled him back to his seat by the ear. At the time he was only six and she was a grown woman, but didn't quench his infatuation with her.

One day, as he practiced magic alone, a group of four older boys doused Oranna and her haindmaidens with ice water as they sat daintily on the fountain in the middle of Arlathan's square. Oranna cried and Solas went wild with rage. He tousled with all of them, from the youngest boy at ten and the oldest at probably thirteen. They shoved him around for a while, as he was only six and even they weren't cruel enough to truly fight back. Oranna, still damp, pulled them apart and caught Solas in a hug, before returning him to his tutor. He was inclined to be punished, or course, for fighting and causing a fuss in public. But Oranna begged his tutor for leniency. "He was defending my honor, hahren," she explained. "He should be rewarded not scolded."

With a smile and a quick peck on his cheek, Oranna left. The next time Solas saw her, she was wed and he felt the heartache keenly.

But he was to grow and there would be many more loves. In fact, he was sure he "fell in love" once a year.

One of the more memorable one's was in early adolescence, maybe fifteen years old. He'd begun attending a prestigious magical academy with other elves his age or older. The most talented mages in Elvhenan were brought there for advanced instruction and many of his longest friendships began there. Mythal teased him mercilessly about the girls that caught his eye. One in particular, a honey-haired girl named Elynn, made him flustered beyond reason.

One morning, when he and Mythal studied alone, he asked her to introduce him to Elynn.

"Are you kidding me, Solas?" she asked, her eyes brimming with tears of laughter. "You go talk to her."

"I've tried," he explained. "I doubt she realizes I exist."

Mythal let out a bark of laughter. "Do you know why that is?"

"No," he replied.

Mythal cupped her hands over his ear and whispered, "Because everyone thinks you're courting me."

Solas grimaced. "That's disgusting."

"Then leave me alone. Go study with the other boys," she murmured through giggles. "Oh, right. The last time you did that you dueled someone."

The thought almost made his smirk with pride. Solas had shared sleeping quarters with three other young men from Arlathan, who he was rather close with at first. He ultimately found them all cocky without merit. One afternoon, he collaborated with them for a magical exhibition at the end of the term. Unbeknownst to Solas at the time, they places nearly imperceptible barriers around him to make his magic see sub-par. When he broke out of the barrier, he irately challenged all of them to a duel in front of their peers and the dean of the academy. Needless to say, their defeat was embarrassing. Afterward, Solas was placed in sleeping quarters with older young men better suited for his temperament.

"You say that like they didn't have that coming," Solas retorted and she laughed again.

"They did," she agreed and sighed exasperatedly. "Alright, arani. I'll tell Elynn that you fancy her."

"No, don't tell her that. Just tell her that I want to speak with her. Alone."

Mythal did him the favor but instead of Elynn meeting him in the campus' courtyard, an angry boy confronted him. Apparently, he'd been seeing Elynn for some time and was insulted by the invitation. While Solas respected their relationship, he hardly got a chance to explain that before the boy's fist collided with his nose, drawing blood. Eventually, they were separated and they were both punished by cleaning the grounds for half a year.

Fighting over girls was never worth the trouble, but that understanding came with a certain level of maturity. As he got older, Solas learned to ignore his jealousy as it had led to issues too many times to be reasonable.

For him to be as old as he is, he figured that he was beyond feelings as petty as jealousy, but alas, he managed to surprise himself.

He'd found comfort in the rotunda at Skyhold quickly and kept a small bedchamber off the gardens nearby. The trek through the mountains left most people weary and exhausted, but that seemed to fade when Sara Lavellan took the title of Inquisitor. Now, nearly everyone was driven and worked hard at renovating the keep and making new homes for themselves. Some were adjusting to Skyhold easier than others. Soldiers like Cassandra and Blackwall were grateful for simpler things, like a warm fire and stone walls. Vivienne, though, cringed with distaste whenever she saw Cole, refused to touch food that wasn't made with the finest ingredients they had (which were, of course, rare for the moment) and insisted on having her Orlesian furniture shipped to Skyhold.

It was clear to Solas that even though Sara agreed on allowing Cole to remain with the Inquisition, she was apprehensive. Which was curious, since she'd become especially close with the mage from Tevinter with no trouble. Dorian.

Every night it seemed like all Solas heard was laughter in the library above him. Giggling and painfully insipid flirting made the most of their conversations. It was annoying at best. He wondered when Sara learned to flirt. Whenever he'd even made the subtlest of passes at her, she dissolved into blushes and excused herself from the conversation, her eyes fluttering with an endearing shyness. However, with Dorian she was bold and witty. Very charming.

But he shouldn't be jealous. Not of Dorian. Nor for her. He'd known beauties in Arlathan that would make some women dissolve into a mess of insecurity. Not that Sara wasn't... appealing in her own way. Her hair was a light ash blonde that most would envy, though it was cut short and neat, to not impede her during battle. As a hunter for her clan, she had a strong, lean body, her face and shoulders covered with light freckles. Her smiles ranged from shy and sweet to sly and cunning. And there was always something about the way her eyes shone, like natural veridium.

Very well, then, she was pretty. He refused to accept that he was jealous of Sara flirting with Dorian instead of him. It was too childish.

Overhead, a deluge of cackling filled the room and Solas resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I want to know what you think her best feature is," Dorian said. "In fact, no one's exempt."

"Well, for Josephine, I'd have to say her grace. She's very elegant," Sara replied.

"You're almost too sweet," Dorian said mockingly. "I meant physically. We are surrounded by wonderfully respectable people, obviously. But what you think of their looks will help me understand how you think. What you value."

"Alright. We're starting with Josephine then?" Sara took a moment to ponder. "I would have to say it's her hair. It's beautiful."

"Hmm. I'm inclined to agree. What about Warden Blackwall? I think we'll have the same answer," Dorian said with a chuckle.

"What? Beard?" Sara giggled.

"Of course, the beard." They shared a laugh for a few moments before Sara quieted and asked, "Well what about The Iron Bull?"

Dorian paused, likely looking for some kind of eloquence. "Horns," he stated shortly.

"Horns? Just the horns?"

"Well pardon me, we are talking about best features, yes?" His tone was mildly embarrassed. "Were you going to say something else?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact," Sara replied. "I was going to say voice. It's very smooth and he's quite articulate."

"Only you would look at someone like Iron Bull and say his best feature is his voice," Dorian mumbled. "Alright, let's move on to Cullen." There was a pause. "If the next word out of your mouth isn't 'everything', I'm going to drag you to Sera's room."

"No, I mean." Sara laughed coquettishly. "I was trying to think of one. I think I'm going to say eyes, though."

"Really? Not rugged scar? Muscles? Hair? I could do this all night," Dorian said with a nervous laugh. "Let's move on."

"Gladly," Sara replied.

"Solas."

Me? Solas held back a laugh. This ought to be mildly offensive at best.

"Solas?" Sara cleared her throat tensely. "I'm not sure..."

"Oh, I know," Dorian barked out a laugh. "Hairline."

Hilarious, Solas thought sarcastically, his eye roll almost painful.

Dorian laughed alone for longer than was necessary and stopped when he realized that Sara had not joined him. "I thought you were cleverer than that, Dorian."

"Oh, come now, that was funny," he argued. "I'd like to see you come up with something better."

"I was going to answer honestly," Sara replied firmly.

"Alright. Let's hear it then." Dorian's tone was dubious.

"Lips."

Lips?

"Lips?" Dorian sounded appalled. "I would never have... but now that you say that... he does have nice lips."

Sara laughed heartily. "Most elves do."

Solas had difficulty paying attention to the rest of their conversation. He wasn't self-absorbed enough to fathom what she could have said was his best feature but the last thing he thought she would say was something so intimate.

He mistook her for a simple Dalish girl, but perhaps she was more than she seemed. Hopefully, her uncommon nature shaped her into a decent leader. His mind drifted to one of the books brought to him on the Fade. He didn't need to think about the Inquisitor more than was appropriate.

Minutes, perhaps as much as an hour, passed before he heard steps climbing down the stairway in the library. When she entered the rotunda, Sara favored him with an amiable smile. "Good evening, Solas."

"Hello," he replied. He watched her gaze about the room from the corner of his eyes.

"This place is incredible," she murmured, moreso to herself likely, but Solas replied all the same, "Yes. Given time, Skyhold will transform into a modern marvel."

"You must have very interesting dreams here," Sara said. "Since it's so ancient and clearly has seen several owners."

"In truth, I haven't been able to deeply focus yet," Solas confessed. "My travels into the Fade have been rather ordinary lately."

"I don't know how travelling in the Fade could ever be ordinary," she said with a chuckle.

"I suppose you would have to experience it personally. Explaining may take all night," he joked.

"I'm interested in what you told me about yourself and your studies. If you have time, I'd like to hear more," she requested earnestly. Truly? he thought. Very well then.

"You continue to surprise me. All right, let us talk... preferably somewhere more interesting than this." She followed without question as they walked across the empty throne room towards her private chambers. He wanted her to experience the Fade; to know how extraordinary it could be. As he sat beside her on her sofa, Solas discretely cast a spell that would make her drowsy.

"So," she began fighting off a yawn. "How many places can you visit in the Fade?"

"As many as you wish," he replied, his voice soft and hushed. "Are you tired, da'len?"

"No," she yawned. "No, excuse me, I'm-"

"You should rest," he murmured and the request was all but taken as her head collapsed on his shoulder. Solas adjusted himself slowly and let her lay on the sofa before taking her in his arms and placing her on her bed. Her breathing was deep even as he left her chambers. Crossing the hall, he walked briskly to his own chambers and forced sleep.

In the Fade, he found her close by, still sleeping peacefully. He called to memory a vision of Haven, a place he knew would affect her dearly and make her comfortable while they spoke. When he was satisfied with the mirage, he woke her. Like many deep dreams, she wouldn't remember how she came to arrive and when she woke, she couldn't even remember going to her chambers.

They spoke in the Fade on his experiences before officially meeting her; examining the mark on her hand, being repeatedly threatened by Cassandra, wondering what could be done to fix the Breach, contemplating leaving Haven to have time to learn how to seal the rifts.

"The Breach threatened the whole world," she commented. "Where did you plan to go?"

"Someplace far away where I might research a way to repair the Breach before its effects reached me," Solas explained, noting her skeptical expression. "I never said it was a good plan."

He went on, explaining that he'd tried to use regular magic to seal the rifts to no avail and only felt hope when she arrived on the battlefield and closed the rift. Something he said had struck her considerably, as her eyes went wide and flush appeared across her cheeks.

"'Felt the whole world change?'" she repeated back to him, her voice insistent. Solas quickly tried to retrace his wording, but she had him caught. Something, perhaps many things, about her were especially endearing. He hadn't joined the Inquisition with the goal of courting her, but...

"You change... everything," he admitted and turned away from her gaze. Why had he said that? Why had he said any of this? It was more impulsive than he was comfortable being. How do I stop this before it begins?

Her lips ardently meeting his own made things even more complicated. Her kiss was brief, a test, easy to pull away from if he wanted. It was all very simple in his mind. Tell her "no". Say that you never meant to encourage this feeling. Offer her friendship.

But his mind had been wrong before. And as her lips parted from his, he realized that he liked her lips, too.

He caught her arm and pulled her back, tasting her pout, feeling how well her body fit against him, nearly swooning when her hand went to caress the side of his face.

Enough, he thought. Enough. And he pulled away gently and looked at her face. Her eyes were glistening with want and her lips were slightly parted, taking soft eager breaths.

No, he realized. It's not enough

So, he kissed her again and would've again and again and again if he hadn't felt a sudden twinge of shame.

He shouldn't have entertained her advances. Never again. It was too aimless and would only lead to complicated feelings and pain.

When he woke, it was with the full intention to end whatever began between them. And when she came to visit him in the morning, he apologized for the intimacy.

"I'm not certain this is the best idea. It could lead to trouble," he explained but he nearly fell apart when she gave him the sweetest smile, coated with a bit of fear at the possibility of his rejection.

"I'm willing to take that chance," she said, "if you are."

Solas felt young again, completely flustered and his composure nearly fractured right before her eyes. He couldn't outright refuse her; he surrendered the side of him that could deny her without remorse the moment they kissed.

"I... may be." To his utter frustration he stammered slightly. He couldn't even feign confidence. "Yes. If I could take a little time to think," he said, his palms a bit moist. "There are... considerations."

Later, after she'd taken her leave, he attempted to weigh out the consequences of courting her. But it was too much to decide in a few hours, despite wanting to know how her lips felt in the waking world. Regardless of how long he took thinking of words to kindly refuse her affections, as their bond could only go so far, his mind would not let him forget their kiss.

Elven Phrases

Banal Silaima: Never Forget

Hahren: Elder

Arani: My friend

(Thanks to Project Elvhen by FenxShiral for the vocabulary)

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