A/N: A (slightly) slower burn version of the Solavellan reunion at the end of Veilguard. My headcanon is that Lavellan knows (somewhat, the gist of it anyway) about his memories and the things he's done. It feels too much like a bait-and-switch to me if he only reveals it all after she's joined him in the Fade prison, and that she's been misled and lied to. That doesn't sit quite right with me for a happy Solavellan ending especially since she's basically pledged her entire life to him (of course, if it's a dysfunctional Solavellan ending then that works well!)
Solas and Ellana are familiar with the order of operations — precedence and necessity guide actions and a matrix of decisions. Practical logic necessarily triumphs over emotional whims and wants.
He has always been practical to a fault, driven by a means to an end, and her pragmatism has been honed to a sharp edge in her time as First to her Keeper and then Inquisitor.
And so, the moment they enter the Fade, neither Solas nor Ellana even think about talking about what's just happened — yet.
The first order of operations is to soothe the blight, as he had promised. Anything else will come after.
Soothing the blight comes easily to Solas. He knows the combination of ancient elven spells to achieve what he needs; he just needs time and concentration. His hands glow as the spell takes place, and Ellana feels her exposed skin prickle at the shift in flux of the Fade.
Ellana doesn't know how much time passes as she remains silent by his side as he stands, hands in the air, the long incantation spilling from his lips. She only knows that she remains quiet, entranced, in awe of him as he weaves ancient elven magics. Finally, the glow in his hands fade as he relaxes, and the Fade falls silent.
"It is done." He says simply. Her skin prickles no more.
What doesn't come easily to Solas, however, is talking to her.
"Why?" That is the first word that comes from his lips. It also isn't quite the word Ellana is expecting. Granted, she doesn't expect effusive thanks, but 'why' is not exactly the word choice she has in mind.
"What?"
"Why did you choose to follow me?"
Solas isn't exactly sure why he didn't stop her. Perhaps he was physically too tired from the fight with Elgar'nan's archdemon, and emotionally too exhausted by the appearance of Mythal. He had told her he was going somewhere terrible, but he realises, belatedly, that he hadn't exactly told her no.
If he is to be honest with himself, 'no' isn't quite the word he has in mind. He definitely wouldn't have told her 'yes please, vhenan', but he had hoped his veiled warning would have sufficed in deterring her. At that moment, when she had offered, he couldn't quite bring himself to deny her anymore – more selfishly, he didn't want to deny himself, either.
But now, when she is standing here before him, in the Fade, in his prison, of all places, he has finally gotten a moment of clarity.
Ellana doesn't reply. Instead, she remains watching him. Her face is a mixture of emotions: puzzled, curious, relieved, happy, all at once. The confluence of emotions muddies her expression into one schooled into an inscrutable gaze.
And still she remains quiet, not answering his question.
Just watching him.
"You've thrown away your entire life to join me here." Solas musters whatever sternness he can gather into one sentence, but he still cannot quite stop the slight panic that rises in his voice. "What have you done? What have I done?"
Her inscrutable expression morphs into familiar irritability.
"The fuck?" Ellana doesn't quite have a way with words like Solas, but she can quite clearly communicate her point across — thank you very much.
"You shouldn't have come." His voice comes out sharper than intended.
"Oh, fuck off." Ellana throws her hands in the air, and rolls her eyes. "You don't get to tell me what I should and should not do. You've never had that right, and you forfeited your right to any 'suggestions' eight years ago." Her voice grows quieter.
She continues, not letting up. "And now that I've given up everything to be here with you, this is the thanks I get?" She looks away, pained.
Solas pales slightly, realising the misstep he has made. "Ir abelas, vhenan. That is not what I meant." He composes himself. "I am sorry. I was just upset at myself."
"For 'letting' me come?" Her voice rises, but the tremble in it is gone, assuaged.
"No, you are right. It was unfair of me to treat you so. You made the choice. I would have loved it if you joined me. But if you had not…I would have made peace with it. And it doesn't mean that I do not want you here with me. There is nobody else I rather be here with than you." He takes her hands in it, lifting them up.
She remains silent, expectant almost, so he continues: "I am grateful for your accompaniment, if still somewhat befuddled by your choice. You gave up everything to join me here. I can still scarcely believe it. I spoke from a place of disbelief."
She appears to consider, but she looks down only on their hands. Still, she begins to shift her fingers slightly — both metal and skin — rubbing them against his.
He continues: "Ar lath ma. I am sorry. I was not thinking."
"Tel'abelas. No, it's been a long day for you too, vhenan." Ellana says finally. "My words were harsh and I reacted in anger. I shouldn't have. You've been through a lot today, a lot more of what anybody can take – and stand. For me to come in blazing like this is unfair to you."
He looks down, contrite. Ellana takes a step closer and pulls him in to hug him. She tilts her head sideways, and rests her cheek against him, his metalplate cold against her skin. The sharp points of his armour dig into her soft clothes, but she ignores the way it feels, focusing instead on how warm and how excruciatingly real he is.
Solas remains silent when next she speaks: "I'm here for you, vhenan. Everything will be alright."
At her words, it's like a dam breaks – and then he is sobbing. The cry that first issues from his lips is soft and low. It comes first from his chest, like a quiet keening; and then she feels him shake against her as his sobs wrack his body. Ellana holds Solas as he cries, feels him heave against her, his tears rolling down his cheeks and dropping onto his robes — landing on her. He nestles deeper into her embrace.
He sobs, the low keening sound becoming a loud cry as she holds onto him, her arms holding him close and grounding him.
"I'm here, I'm here." Ellana says gently, reassuringly.
He hasn't counted on her joining him — let alone making an appearance at all. But yet…
"Ir abelas. Forgive me, vhenan. I love you, I love you. I am sorry. I love you." He mumbles, pulling her closer, tighter, guilt overwhelming him. And then he feels himself crumbling once more, sliding down her and pressing his head against her, arms around her thighs. He buries himself into her, as if seeking forgiveness at what he has done – or rather, what she has done for him. "How can I ever make it up to you? I am so sorry. I have taken your entire life away from you."
"Vhenan, please do not apologise," Ellana says quickly, and crouches before him. "Please do not feel like you owe me anything. Do not even think about making it up to me. For so much of your life you've been doing everything for everybody else. For once, please let somebody do this for you."
Ellana holds him close once more as he continues crying, sitting by his side and holding him tight. And she continues: "I'm here, and I'm real, vhenan."
But as he sobs, Ellana can't help but feel traitor tears spring to her eyes. For as much as she had hoped for over the past how many years, this isn't quite the outcome she has expected. He is here, she is here — together. It is certainly a lot more than what she had hoped for and expected.
She isn't exactly sure how long they sit on the ground, their tears mingling, but when they finally put apart Ellana finally realises how tired and wretched he looks.
Order of operations dictates that soothing the blight comes first.
What comes after, however…
Solas hasn't had time to heal or wash his wounds, and now his face is caked with dried blood. The gash down his right eye is covered in red and brown, and the ichor stain down the left corner of his lip is now a discoloured black against his skin. He has some nasty bruises on his cheek and forehead and a smattering of other cuts.
"You look awful," she whispers, smiling.
He chuckles, a corner of his lips turning up in a tired smile. "You look as beautiful as always."
Her heart stutters at his reply, and she is suddenly lost for words. Their arms are still around each other, and he is still looking right at her. Despite the injuries on his face, despite looking worse for the wear, she still recognises the same Solas in the way he looks at her, in the way his gaze and sharp features soften when he calls her beautiful.
Ellana clears her throat, quickly banishing away whatever improper thoughts she has in mind. There will be time later, but not now. For now, he has to heal, and he has to rest. Anything else seems both highly improper and completely inappropriate.
"You should heal, and rest up. I will help." She shuffles her feet slightly.
"Vhenan, I've seen your skill with healing spells. Please leave this to me."
"I meant that you should save your energy by healing what you can. I will help out with whatever healing spell I can muster, and the old-fashioned way." Ellana takes out a cloth from her pouch, and begins to dab gently at the ichor stain.
Despite himself, Solas snorts. "Figures it will be a technicality on your part." His lips move beneath the fabric of her cloth.
"Oh? I thought technicalities was something Fen'Harel is experienced in," she muses, not unkindly, still wiping as carefully as she can.
He chuckles. "So you heard from Rook."
"I heard many things from her." The cloth is stained black now with the ichor, but at least she had gotten most of it off.
He sighs. "I would have preferred to have let you hear those things in my own words."
"I'm amenable to that. She told me a lot about you. Or at least, what she knows." She brings the cloth up to his right brow. "Hold still." Carefully and gently, with one hand she begins to wipe at the blood while the other holds him in place.
"Then you know what I have done." He is so close to her she can feel his breath on her skin. Blinking, she tries to focus.
"Somewhat, in the broadest of strokes, yes."
"And still you join me here." He moves slightly to look at her now, and her hands still, holding the cloth in place below his eye.
"Or would you rather I have joined you here, completely in the dark as to what transpired in your past?" Ellana keeps her voice as level as she can.
He considers. "Fair point." His gaze was still on hers.
"At least this way, we can both say that there are no false pretenses."
"I am sure you have plenty of questions." He says, not unkindly.
"As always." She flips the cloth over, trying to avoid his gaze as she dabs at the other cuts on his face. It isn't that she is avoiding his gaze, exactly, but that…she can't quite trust herself to look him in the eye.
Her plaintive plea back in front of Rook and Morrigan had been utterly desperate of her. It mortifies her, somewhat, that she had been so daring, so bold, and so willing to throw everything away for him. It had also revealed to Solas the true depths of her feelings and emotions for him. Granted, he was already aware. But to articulate it so obviously and painfully so…
And yet, Ellana didn't quite want it to be any other way.
"Done. You look less awful now." She says, removing the cloth. "The gash above your right eye may scar, though."
"A minor thing." He smiles, and shuffles slightly, wincing.
"What's wrong?"
He exhales as he stands up slowly. "Think it may be a broken rib."
"What? Why didn't you say anything earlier? I was squeezing you so tightly!"
"Because I love holding you." His voice holds a trace of mirth.
"Sweet talker." Ellana rolls her eyes. "Now, please strip."
At her words, Solas' eyes flicker to hers as the tips of his ears turn slightly pink.
Fenedhis.
"I - no, sorry! I didn't mean it that way. What I mean is — " she clears her throat. "We need to check what other wounds you have. And the only way to check is…when you are unencumbered by things as burdensome as clothing."
"Ah." He says. But he doesn't seem to have the strength to protest. Instead, quietly, he begins to remove his vest. He winces as he tries to peel it off.
"Let me help." Ellana says, and helps him shrug his vest off slowly. She fumbles with his chestplate next, careful to avoid injuring him any further. Her traitor heart pounds so loudly in her chest that she can't quite catch what Solas is saying.
"Vhenan, the clasps are at the back." He repeats.
Ellana nods, not trusting her voice to betray her, and moves behind him, fingers deftly undoing the clasps. She is careful to grab the chestplate before it falls to the ground.
He disrobes slowly with her help, carefully peeling off his inner robes until he stands bare-chested before her. Ellana avoids his gaze as she helps him with his legplates, removing them as gently as she can. And then he stands, vulnerable and bruised before her in only his smalls.
"I think you're right about that broken rib." Ellana gestures to the swollen bruise on his chest, and tries to quiet her thudding heartbeat.
She paces about him, purposely keeping it as clinical as she can – as she should – assessing his injuries. Apart from some scratches all over, nothing major – except that the back of his smalls are stained a deep red in a ring pattern.
"I don't know how else to say this, but, there's…a circular wound, on your bottom. It's like a bite mark?" Ellana takes a closer look.
"I got bit by the archdemon."
"I'll take care of that one. Please focus on healing your ribs and face instead. Don't spread yourself too thin. You need the energy, Solas."
He starts to protest, but falls silent. Instead, he holds his hand over his bruised ribs, murmuring a soft spell. Ellana lays out her cloak on the ground as she watches him. As his hand glows, the swelling on his chest seems to reduce. The discolouration remains, although the purple seems to fade from his skin a little.
Once done, he hovers his palms above his face. His hands glow once more and she watches as the wounds on his face grow smaller.
"That will do. For now." He says, but he can't hide the exhaustion in his voice.
"The rest will be the old-fashioned way, eh? A bandage and lots of rest."
He nods.
"Then if you don't mind lying down…that archdemon bite…"
Solas does as told, and he lies down on his stomach. Ellana sits beside him, and appraises the wound on his buttocks.
"I…" Her fingers hover at the waistband of his smalls. "Don't get me wrong, Solas, but I'll need to…"
"Please." He says.
Ellana exhales a breath she didn't know she is holding as she gingerly peels down his smalls, exposing his bare buttocks to her. Any improper thoughts she harbours flee when she sees the extent of his injury. He winces as the fabric slides past the wound, still bloody.
"It looks quite deep. Hold still." Ellana frowns. The bite mark is a series of long puncture wounds arrayed in a huge circle on his backside, a mix of fresh and dried blood. The entire area is bruised, discoloured purple.
Concentrating and willing her mana to her, Ellana hovers her palms above the injury. A pale glow suffuses the air above his skin, and she focuses. She can almost imagine the muscles stitching back fibre by fibre, weaving back as a whole.
When she is done, the wound is still there, but it is a lot shallower. Still, she is glad that he can at least heal his own ribs and face. She doesn't think she has enough mana for all that.
"I can heal," Solas offers, tilting his head slightly to see her.
"Don't be stubborn." Ellana says. "Save your energy. I've done what I can here, and I'll bandage you up."
"Ma serannas. I feel better, already."
"You know…" She says, wanting to make things more light-hearted. "I have a lot of questions about how wolf anatomy translates to elven."
"Oh?"
Ellana begins untying the sash around her waist. "So if you get injured on your…front paws in your wolf form, does that mean your arms get injured?"
"Something like that, yes." Solas remains lying down, head still tilted to see her.
She is shredding the sash into more manageable strips now with her small knife. "I'm going to bandage you up, alright?"
He nods.
She clears her throat, and stands up, holding out her hands to him. "If you don't mind standing up."
If Ellana doesn't know better, she will have thought that Solas looks abashed, shy even, as he rolls to his side and slowly rises to his feet, taking her hands in his. She tries to ignore his naked form.
She can't say she is entirely successful.
"So an injury on your hind legs will mean your legs get injured?" Ellana prattles on as she crouches and presses the cloth against his bare buttock, slowly pulling one end of the cloth to the front.
"Yes. Likewise for any on my back, or chest."
Ellana tries her best to avert her gaze as she gingerly wraps the cloth around his front and back up to his rear, slowly going around and trying her absolute best to ignore the way he looks naked. Her fingers brush against his skin as she goes around.
It doesn't quite escape her gaze that he is not entirely soft. Still, she isn't about to embarrass him. It will be presumptuous of her to presume his intentions when he has none.
Especially not given his current state.
"All done." She stands up, and hands him his robes. "Get some rest?"
She turns away to give Solas some modicum of privacy; she tries to completely ignore the fact that she has already seen him stark naked, but she can't be blamed for lack of trying.
She removes her prosthesis as she hears the sound of robes being worn, and soft padded feet making its way to her.
"Vhenan, you don't have to suffer on the ground with me. I can will you a nice bed. We are in the Fade, after all."
She shakes her head, smiling slightly. "Save your energy. You sound exhausted. The ground is fine for tonight."
He nods, and lies down slowly on her cloak, wincing as he does so. Slowly, Ellana shuffles herself down beside him, careful to avoid hitting him.
Next to her, Solas curls up. He is still looking at her.
"Will you stay beside me?" He asks softly.
"Of – of course. I won't leave you alone." She replies, cheeks suddenly colouring. She pillows her head on her arm as she looks at him. "Besides, I'm kind of stuck in here with you. Where can I run to?"
He chuckles. "I am very grateful to you. More than words can express." He says, and reaches out to take her right hand in his. Ellana's heart stutters slightly at his touch, and she nods, not trusting her voice to not betray her. "You followed me here, when you didn't have to. This punishment was mine and mine alone."
"I meant what I said eight years ago," Ellana replies. "Var lath vir suledin. And I meant what I said before we came here. Bellanaris."
"I have done so many things wrong by you. I do not even know how to begin to right matters." He says, fingers ghosting on the stump of her left arm.
"We'll work through things, together."
"You're always optimistic, vhenan." He smiles, and trails his fingers down from her temple to her chin, lingering slightly longer than strictly necessary.
"And you're being grim and fatalistic in hopes of getting me into bed, aren't you?"
"Are we not already in bed?" Despite how exhausted he looks, a corner of his lips tug up in a smile. He reaches for her hand once more to lace his fingers with hers.
"I didn't know lying together on the same cloak on cracked tiles in Fade prison counts."
"Besides, I am always grim and fatalistic. Getting you into my bed is just an enjoyable side benefit." He chuckles, and brings her knuckles up to his lips to press a kiss to her skin.
"Sweet talker," Ellana laughs, and tries to ignore the way her heartbeat accelerates, tries to ignore the way her breath catches in her throat as he steels her gaze with his. His expression is suddenly tender – but with the undercurrent of something else, something a little more.
She swallows. "We – we should get some rest. It's been a very long day."
"Certainly," he says. But he holds onto her hand even as he closes his eyes, and even as he drifts quickly into deep sleep.
Sleep should come to Ellana but it doesn't. Instead, she finds herself fidgety despite the calming presence his touch has on her. Solas is asleep, restful, beside her. Eventually though, she falls asleep, but not before wondering what the next day will bring.
Ellana opens her eyes to darkness. It takes her a while to realise that they had moved in the night. The darkness over her eyes is Solas' arm over her face. Their legs are tangled, and his other arm is under her.
Ah. So it is real, after all, not some trick of a dream. Part of her had wondered if the entire thing was an elaborate dream sequence, but he is here, and he is real, sleeping right beside her.
Ellana doesn't move, not wanting to disturb his sleep or the peaceful spell between them. He is so close to her now, breathing deep, a look of almost-peace on his face. She wants nothing more than to reach out for him, to run her fingers along his skin and tell him again how much she loves him.
He stirs slightly, opening his eyes.
"Vhenan," he whispers. Her breath catches.
"How are you feeling?" Ellana shifts slightly, but he only wraps his arm around her.
"Better. Still sore, but better." He pauses, and continues. "This reminds me so much of our time in the Inquisition."
She nods, and feels of twinge of something stir in her heart.
He continues: "Waking up together like this, just you and I. Arms around the other in our bedrolls."
"Until Cassandra would yell through the tent to wake us up." Ellana smiles at the memory.
He chuckles. "I remember. I was…happy back then, the happiest I had been in a long, long while. It was so easy for me to forget what I had done, what I wanted to do, when I was by your side."
"Solas –"
"I meant what I wrote you, in that letter. I was this close to telling you everything back at Crestwood, this close to wanting to be Solas by your side, as I have ever always wanted to be for the longest." He pulls her closer, and his gaze is earnest and genuine, eyes tender.
"I'm by your side now, aren't I?" She grins, and reaches out for his chest with her fingers.
"In a rather roundabout way, yes, vhenan."
"I will have it no other way."
He pulls her close to press his lips to her forehead in a chaste kiss. Ellana feels heat surge in her face at the mere suggestion of physical intimacy — one kiss and she is already ready to throw herself at him and climb him like a tree. She desperately tries to temper her need down, knowing that he is still recovering and that he needs time. She can't take advantage of his vulnerability this way; it doesn't feel right.
"Do you want to see the rest of the prison?" He asks. "I suppose you have plenty of questions."
"I do, if you're up for it." Ellana says, and pulls away slightly to rise to her feet. She helps him up to his feet.
With clarity, she remembers the order of operations. Hearing his regrets firsthand is critical for her and him – for them.
"Then I will tell you everything first hand. The truth."