A/N: Thank you for coming to read Unconditionally (inspired by the song Unconditionally sung by Katy Perry) I hope you enjoy the story, please keep in mind there are times where trigger warnings will apply and things may get a little dark. Do not fret my lovely Lavellans, all will be well. With that being said this chapter's title is inspired by the song Silent Scream sung by Anna Blue. Please read and review!

Solas's desk was littered with the thick unlined papers of various sketchbooks. The project had been a simple one, draw anything using the techniques they had learned thus far: hatching, cross-hatching, stippling, pointillism, scribbling, or blending. Most of the projects were simple objects that could be found around the classroom: a cell phone, bookbags, cabinets, one student had even drawn an entire desk using the pointillism method. The project that had captured Solas's attention the most wasn't a simple classroom object. The paper was filled with the dark blending of a side profile of a woman's head from the shoulders up. Long strands of pale hair fell in contrast against the woman's shoulders. Upon closer inspection, Solas was able to see that the hair had been drawn with the short ticking strokes of the hatching method. However, it wasn't the multiple different methods or the skill of the drawing that drew his attention, it was what the picture depicted itself. The woman's head was turned slightly upward, eyes squeezed closed, and mouth agape as if she were silently screaming in pain. Around the woman's neck, a claw-like hand was scribbled. The points where its fingertips met with skin there were small droplets drawn in various stages of sliding down the neck. The rich, dark red of blood was the only color in the otherwise dark drawing. It was beautifully drawn and very disturbing coming from a high school student.

The signature on the bottom right-hand corner revealed it to be the work of Elyssa Lavellan. Solas stared hard at the picture. By all rights she had earned a hundred on the project, she had, after all, used three different methods. Yet, something inside him stopped him from simply grading the paper as such and moving it to the side with the other graded works. He found himself walking to the cabinet he kept the previously graded projects left behind by students not interested in taking their works home. All of Elyssa's projects from the quarter had been left behind. All as beautifully done as this one had been. And all of them dark and twisted in some way. Where the rest of the class had drawn clownfish, turtles, and infant octopi depicted as adorably as possible, Elyssa had drawn a shark jaws open to attack. Amongst the tulips, daisies, and sunflowers standing tall, Elyssa's wilted rose stood out. The pattern continued. Where the rest of the class drew pictures that were cheerful or normal, Elyssa's art was always a dark version of the assignment. The most recent being the darkest yet.

Solas made his way back to his desk, mind lost in thought. Elyssa was a quiet girl. She sat in the back of the classroom furthest from the door. She rarely spoke and never gave him any problems. Most students thought Art was a class where one could act out and do as one wished, but not Elyssa. She worked diligently, aced all the tests, and never acted out. If it weren't for the nature of her drawings Solas would say she was a model student. Outside of his classroom, he didn't know much about her. He made a mental note to ask around discreetly with her other teachers. As it was, he couldn't let this project go without talking to her. The rest of the student's projects were graded with ease. Afterward, he placed all of Elyssa's projects in a separate file. He would get to the bottom of this one way or another.

Elyssa stared down at the paper in front of her. 'Stay behind after class.' So much trouble in four small little words. Staying behind after class meant she'd be late getting home since Art was her last class of the day. Maybe she should just leave? She could just come to class during her lunch period and talk to him then. Yes, that's what she would do. She would simply tell Mr. Wolfe that she couldn't stay behind today due to prior obligations and she would talk to him during lunch tomorrow. She shuffled behind the rest of the class, hoping she would make it out without being noticed.

"Miss Lavellan, a moment of your time please?" the deep voice called from behind her. She had been spotted. She needed to get out and fast. She had to get home.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Wolfe," she turned towards the source of the voice. He sat in a large wooden chair with two-toned red padding behind his vast oak desk littered with books and papers. Amongst the chaos on his desk was a manila folder with her name written upon it. Whatever this was about was in the contents of that folder. "Can this please wait until tomorrow? I can come to talk to you during lunch?" She begged. His gray-blue eyes focused on the folder on his desk, his light brown eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm sorry, Miss Lavellan," he shook his head piercing her with his intense blue gaze, "but I think it would be best if we had this discussion sooner rather than later."

Inside her chest her heart pounded, her breath came in short shallow intervals. She struggled to maintain a calm exterior. Deep breaths. In and then out. Look at him levelly, blink normally. She nodded her head, taking a seat across from him. "Yes sir," she answered. Maybe if she got this over with quickly she could still make it in good time. It was the best she could hope for at this point. That she could still make it home in time and everything would be okay.

Solas looked at the girl sitting across from him. Her green eyes were cast downward, her ash-white hair fell in waves over her shoulders. In her lap she fiddled with the hem of her black long sleeve top, twisting it one way then another. She must be nervous about getting called out like this. He had spoken with her other teachers and all had agreed she was a quiet girl that gave them no problems. They had also said they noticed nothing unusual about her work or demeanor. To them, Elyssa Lavellan was just the shy quiet student that passed through unnoticed. A seventeen-year-old girl with no remarkable traits, skating by on the outskirts of life. So why all the dark pictures?

"Miss Lavellan," he began.

"Please just call me Elyssa," she asked softly.

"Okay… Elyssa," he resumed, "I asked to speak with you today because - quite frankly - I'm concerned." The words had no sooner left his mouth when her head snapped up, leveling him with wide green eyes. She seemed to freeze in the small chair she sat in. Solas raised an eyebrow in question. Why such a reaction? "Miss Lave- Elyssa?" he called softly, "are you okay?"

His question seemed to thaw her. "What?" she asked but shook her head before he could answer. "Of course, I'm fine." She pointed to the file on his desk. "This is why we're here, is it not?" she asked, "let's just get this over with."

"Miss Lavellan, why do you think you're here talking to me now?" he asked. She seemed to know that he had called her here because of her work; her attitude indicated she thought it was something bad. He wasn't here to lecture her. He was here to see why she drew such sad, painful artwork. It was as if she were trying to say something she couldn't put into words. Something easier for her to draw than speak aloud.

She sighed. "Because you couldn't wait until lunch tomorrow," she answered with sarcasm, "whatever is in that folder I'm sure could have waited another day." Solas was taken aback by the attitude that had unfolded from the young woman. Who would have thought the quiet girl in the corner had such a voice?

With a quick hand, he pulled her latest work from the top of the file and pushed it towards her. The defiant light left her eyes as she stared at the screaming woman in the drawing. Looking at the artist closely beside their work, Solas could see the woman's hair in the drawing was a very similar shade to Elyssa's. The face had the same small pointed nose, the same full bottom lip and thinner top one, the same defiant chin. It had been so obvious, Solas didn't know how he had missed it before. The woman silently screaming in pain was Elyssa. "This is why I asked you to speak to me today."

"I don't understand," she looked up at him, "I did the assignment as asked. I used multiple methods in fact."

"Elyssa the picture is beautiful," he offered kindly, "but I'm concerned about the meaning behind the drawing. It's so dark, it is as if this woman is screaming in pain. Maybe she's screaming for help?"

Her green eyes turned cold, the defiant light once again shining within. "Well she's not," Elyssa growled, "she doesn't need any help and neither do I!" She stood abruptly, marching towards the exit.

"Elyssa wait!" he called to the fleeing figure, "I'm just worried something is wrong. Your art is always so sad."

"I'll have you know that I'm perfectly happy," she turned to glare at him, "not that it's any of your business anyway. I just draw whatever comes to mind. I don't need you reading into everything." She paused once more at the door. "Please just let it go." her whisper cracked with emotion, the words ringing louder than thunder. Solas watched the young woman leave, more determined than ever to find out exactly what was going on with Elyssa Lavellan.