Author's note: Moving forward, memories will mostly be from entirely unique events- non-canon interactions and events that allow for a window into their relationship, fleshing it out. :)

Chapter 3: Ripples of Memory

The forest presses in close as we trek deeper into the Emerald Graves, its towering trees casting long shadows that stretch over the undergrowth. The Chargers fan out ahead and behind me, their banter cutting through the silence like a well-worn blade. Bull strides beside me, his heavy footfalls a steady reminder of his presence, while Krem trails slightly behind, always watchful, always listening.

It's been three weeks since Kirkwall. Three weeks of nonstop travel, too much time to think. I've felt you lingering at the edges of my thoughts the entire way. I shake the thought away as Krem clears his throat behind me.

"You alright, Boss?" he asks, his tone casual but edged with curiosity.

"Just thinking," I reply, brushing a low-hanging branch aside. "It's quiet here. Almost too quiet."

"You get used to it," Bull rumbles beside me, grinning. "You just need some noise to balance it out. I could sing, if you'd like."

Krem snorts. "Please don't. I've heard your singing. It's worse than when Rocky gets drunk and howls at the moon."

Bull shoots him a mock glare. "Hey, I'll have you know my voice is a treasure. People pay good coin for performances like mine."

"Yeah, to make it stop," Krem retorts, earning a laugh from me despite the tension creeping up my spine.

"Keep it down," I say, still smiling. "The ruin's close, and I'd rather not have anything—or anyone—know we're coming."

The Chargers quiet as we break through the last line of trees. There it is.

The ruin rises from the forest floor like a forgotten monument, its crumbling walls covered in moss and vines. The faint light of the lyrium veins that run through its stone gives the place an otherworldly glow, a hum of magic that settles in my bones.

I stop at the edge of the clearing, my chest tightening with a familiar ache. Would you have known this place, Solas? Would you have traced the carvings with that careful touch, your voice quiet as you breathed life back into forgotten history? Would you have stood here, as I do now, and felt the weight of it?

"Looks spooky," Bull says, breaking the silence. "I like it."

I glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Spooky isn't exactly the goal, but I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."

He grins, hefting his axe. "You ready to head in?"

"Not quite," I reply, turning to Krem. "You and the Chargers stay out here. Set up a perimeter and keep watch. If you hear anything strange, let us know immediately."

Krem nods, already gesturing for the others to spread out.

"You and me, then," Bull says, his grin widening. "Let's see what's in this spooky old ruin."

The entrance is low, the stone arch carved with faded glyphs that hum faintly under my touch. Bull ducks through with some effort, his horns scraping the top of the archway.

"I'm guessing these guys weren't thinking about qunari when they built this," he mutters, glancing around.

"Probably not," I reply, smiling despite myself. "Try not to break anything, alright?"

"Can't make any promises," he says, grinning as he follows me deeper inside.

The air grows colder as we descend, the glow of the lyrium veins casting faint shadows across the walls. My boots crunch softly against the ground, and the sound feels impossibly loud in the stillness.

Bull moves carefully, but his size is hard to ignore in the cramped space. He glances at me once or twice, his expression unreadable, and I wonder if he's trying to figure out why I seem so distant.

Then I see it—a faint carving on the wall, half-covered in moss, but familiar. The memory strikes hard and fast. Another ruin, another time. You beside me, your fingers tracing similar marks with reverence. The sound of your voice as you explained their meaning, your words weaving ancient stories into the fabric of my understanding.

I stop, my hand brushing the carving. My breath catches.

"You alright, Boss?" Bull asks again, his voice softer this time.

I nod, forcing myself to move forward. "Just… remembering something."

But the weight of the past follows me deeper into the ruin, your voice a ghost at my shoulder.

FLASHBACK

The Forbidden Oasis was a strange place—serene pools of clear water scattered across golden sands, surrounded by jagged cliffs that seemed to lean in, watching. It was a landscape of contrasts: life and desolation, beauty and isolation. We had just closed the last rift, the anchor in my hand settling into a faint hum, its power momentarily quiet.

Iron Bull let out a satisfied grunt, planting his axe in the ground as he stretched. "Alright, Boss, that's enough hero stuff for today. I'm calling it—time to find a pond and cool off. These horns get hot."

Varric, who had been brushing sand off Bianca for the past ten minutes, snorted. "You're not wrong. This place is beautiful, but I've had enough of the whole 'sweating like a nug on a spit' experience. Swimming sounds like exactly the kind of mission I volunteered for."

You, standing a few paces away, tilted your head and arched an eyebrow. "Swimming?"

Bull grinned, unapologetic. "Damn right, Chuckles. Look at this place—it's practically begging for a cannonball. You should try it. Might loosen you up."

Varric chimed in, slinging Bianca over his shoulder. "Yeah, Solas. Let's see that mysterious apostate grace in action. Do you float or just hover on the surface with all your wisdom?"

I tried to hold back a laugh as you regarded them both with your usual calm, though I caught the faintest twitch at the corner of your mouth. "I think I will refrain."

"Well, suit yourself," Bull said, hefting his axe. "We'll be in the big pond if you change your mind. Boss, you coming?"

I shook my head. "I'll catch up later. I want to check something out first."

"By 'check something out,' you mean go ruin-crawling with Chuckles, don't you?" Varric asked, narrowing his eyes at me.

"Maybe," I replied, raising an eyebrow.

The dwarf groaned. "Suit yourself. But when you're knee-deep in spiders and traps, don't say I didn't warn you."

With that, the two of them headed off, their laughter fading as they descended toward the ponds below.

You turned to me, your expression thoughtful. "You are not obligated to accompany me," you said, your tone soft, as though suprised. "I am accustomed to exploring ruins alone."

I hesitated, studying you for a moment. Then, with a small smile, I replied, "I'd rather go with you."

Something shifted in your gaze—eagerness, perhaps—but you simply inclined your head. "Very well."

The ruin rose from the sands like a half-forgotten dream, its weathered stone walls carved with glyphs that whispered secrets only the wind could hear. There was a hushed reverence in the air, as if the ruin itself were holding its breath. Inside, the temperature dipped, the coolness brushing against my skin like a gentle caress. The scent of ancient dust mixed with the faint hum of magic, settling over everything like a veil.

You moved ahead of me, your fingers tracing glyphs worn smooth by time. "A sanctuary," you murmured, your voice rich with a kind of reverence I rarely heard from anyone but you. "A retreat for meditation and study. The architecture… it's deliberate—Elvhen, from before the Veil. They believed in harmony with the land, shaping their structures to flow with nature rather than dominate it."

Your words carried a quiet awe, a love for history and beauty that made me forget the ruin entirely. My focus drifted to the curve of your lips as you spoke, the tilt of your head as you studied the walls, the way your fingers lingered over the stone as though they might uncover its hidden life.

"It's beautiful," I said softly, though my gaze rested squarely on you.

You glanced back, the corner of your mouth curving into a faint, knowing smile. "It is," you replied, your tone low, tinged with something I couldn't quite name.

We moved deeper into the ruin, the corridors narrowing as the light dimmed. The faint veins of lyrium along the walls pulsed softly, casting a ghostly glow that flickered against your features. You paused before an intricate carving, your fingers following its spiral design as if unraveling its story.

The moment felt suspended in time. Your focus was absolute, your presence a quiet anchor in the silence. I wanted to reach for you then, to close the space between us and say something I wasn't sure I had the words for.

Then, the light flickered—and went out.

The darkness fell heavy and absolute, stealing even the faint outlines of the space around us. My breath hitched, and I instinctively pressed a hand to the wall to steady myself.

"Don't move," you whispered, your voice low and quiet.

The sound of it sent a shiver down my spine, and the silence that followed seemed to hum with something alive. I could feel you near, closer than you had been before, your presence warm and steady in the chill of the ruin. My senses sharpened, the absence of sight making every sound, every movement amplified.

I shifted slightly, meaning to steady myself further, but my boot caught on loose rubble. A gasp escaped me as I stumbled, and then your hand found my arm, catching me before I could fall.

The contact was electric, a sharp spark that set every nerve alight. You didn't just steady me—you pulled me closer, your other arm slipping around my waist with a deliberate strength that left me breathless.

I froze, caught in the heat of your touch. My breath tangled with yours, the herbal note of your scent filling the air between us. My hands rose instinctively, one bracing against your chest as though to ground myself. Beneath my palm, I could feel the strong, steady rhythm of your heartbeat.

The ruin seemed to fade away, the world narrowing to this moment—this exquisite, impossible moment where I was pressed against you, your hands anchoring me as though you feared letting go.

I could feel your breath against my cheek, warm and uneven, and for one maddening second, I thought you might close the remaining space between us. My lips parted, my heart pounding so loudly I was certain you could hear it.

Then, the lyrium veins flared back to life, their glow spilling pale light into the chamber.

You exhaled sharply, stepping back as though the light had broken a spell. Your hand slipped from my waist, and the absence of your touch left a hollow ache in its place.

"Apologies," you said, your voice carefully measured. But your eyes betrayed you—stormy, conflicted, brimming with something unspoken. "The lyrium can be… unpredictable."

I stood there, my breath uneven, my heart still racing as I struggled to form words. "It's fine," I managed, though my voice sounded far more unsteady than I intended.

For a moment, neither of us moved. The tension between us hung like a fragile thread, stretched so thin I feared it might snap.

Finally, you cleared your throat, glancing toward the corridor ahead. "We should continue," you said, your tone softer now, almost reluctant.

"Yes," I murmured, though my legs felt unsteady as I followed you.

We moved deeper into the ruin, but part of me remained where we had stood, trembling with the memory of your touch, the moment we had almost dared to cross a line we both knew could not be uncrossed.

The chamber opened before us like a forgotten sanctum, its vast walls shimmering faintly with the soft pulse of lyrium veins embedded in the stone. The air was heavy, not with dust, but with something deeper—an energy that pressed against my skin, heady and electric.

The mural dominated the far wall, its intricate carvings glowing faintly in the light. At its center loomed the image of a wolf, its form immense and commanding, eyes gleaming with an almost unnatural intensity. Around it, figures knelt in reverence, their postures filled with awe and fear.

I stepped closer, drawn by the sheer power of it, my breath catching as my fingers hovered over the carved stone. Slowly, I traced the curve of the wolf's face, the sharp angles of its snarl, the detail etched so precisely it felt alive.

The name whispered through my mind like a secret carried on the wind. Fen'Harel.

The realization sent a shiver down my spine, an ache blooming in my chest that I couldn't explain. The wolf wasn't just a god—it was a symbol for so much more. I felt it in the hum of the air, in the way the room seemed to hold its breath.

I turned slightly, glancing over my shoulder. You stood near one of the side walls, your head tilted as you studied my interaction with the ruin. You were watching me. Your gaze was dark, unfathomable, and it sent my pulse skittering. There was longing there, yes, but also something deeper, something raw and unspoken. Fear.

"Solas?" I said softly, my voice breaking the silence.

You blinked, the faint tension in your posture easing as though you'd just remembered yourself. "The wolf," you said, your voice lower than usual, edged with something I couldn't name.

"Fen'Harel," I murmured, turning back to the mural, my hand rising to trace the carving again. The image of the Dread Wolf's eyes seemed to bore into me, filled with secrets I'd only hoped to understand.

"It is," you murmured, stepping closer. Your presence sent a ripple through the air, an unspoken energy that seemed to grow stronger the nearer you came. "The Dread Wolf… revered and reviled. Protector to some, betrayer to others."

There was something strange in your tone, something that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I turned to face you, my hand falling from the stone.

"You sound like you know him," I said, half-teasing, though the weight in your expression made my chest tighten.

For a moment, you didn't reply. Your gaze flickered to the mural, lingering on the wolf, before returning to me. "Everyone knows the stories," you said finally, though the words felt… off. Too measured. Too deliberate.

I stepped closer, the distance between us shrinking until the charged air seemed to spark. "But you know more, don't you?"

You met my eyes then, and the longing there was impossible to miss. But so was the sorrow, the fear that seemed to tether you in place.

"Perhaps," you said softly, and the word carried the weight of a thousand unspoken truths.

The silence between us stretched, heavy and intimate. My heart pounded as I searched your face, the storm of emotions flickering there a mystery I couldn't solve.

The air felt warmer now, the energy between us shifting into something headier, something that made my breath catch. You stepped closer, your presence magnetic, and for a fleeting moment, I thought you might reach for me, might close the unbearable distance.

But then you turned away, your gaze settling once more on the mural. "We should keep moving," you said, though your voice was thick with something unsaid.

I hesitated, the ache in my chest deepening. Slowly, I nodded, my fingers brushing the edge of the wolf's jaw one last time.

"Right," I said softly, though the charged air lingered, wrapping around us as we moved deeper into the ruin.

The Forbidden Oasis lay cloaked in a deep, silvered quiet, the moon casting its cool light over the still pools and sand-dusted rocks. Midnight had settled softly, bringing with it a hush that felt sacred, untouchable. Yet I slipped out of my tent like a thief, my every step against the soft earth a deliberate act of rebellion.

I glanced back as I moved, the camp sprawled in varying states of stillness. Bull's and Varric's tents sat unmoving, though the off-beat harmony of their snores carried through the night. A lullaby for the nightmares. I smirked, shaking my head before letting my gaze linger on your tent. Silent. Still. I felt the now-familiar tug of anticipation—a thread I refused to pull too tightly—and forced myself to turn away.

The pools awaited, their surfaces a mirror of moon and stars, rippling faintly in the light desert breeze. I reached the water's edge, scanning the camp one last time before stripping down to my smallclothes. The cool air brushed over my skin as I folded my outer layers and stepped forward, the sand giving way to the lapping embrace of water.

The chill bit at my calves, rising as I waded deeper, a soft gasp escaping my lips before I could catch it. My breath came slow and deliberate as the warmth of the water seeped in, soothing and sharp all at once.

With each ripple beneath my fingers, I let my thoughts drift. I tried to focus on the tranquility around me, but my mind kept returning to the day's discoveries, the tension in the ruin, and more than that… you.

Every look exchanged in the shadows of ancient stone, every brush of your hand against mine, every lingering glance—it was maddening. The way you had stood before the mural, your eyes wide and thoughtful, your fingers tracing the image of the wolf… I could still see the light catching your profile, the weight of your presence making the air in the ruin too heavy and too light all at once.

I exhaled sharply, my fingers skating over the water's surface as though the ripples could carry my thoughts away. And then I froze.

You were there.

You stood at the edge of the pool, the moonlight draped over you like a second skin. Your face was softened by the light, but your eyes burned—dark and intense, holding me in place as though you'd woven a spell.

"Couldn't sleep either?" I asked softly, my voice catching in my throat.

You tilted your head, a flicker of amusement curving your lips. "Not tonight."

"Care to join me?"

A glint of something—challenge, perhaps—flashed in your gaze as you reached for your robes, your movements slow and deliberate. My breath hitched as the fabric fell away, revealing the lean strength of your form beneath. Maker, I tried not to stare, but how could I not? The lines of you—slender, honed, deceptively powerful—seemed to catch and hold the moonlight itself.

You stepped into the water with that same careful grace, each ripple carrying your presence closer to me. My chest tightened, and I wasn't sure if the chill of the water or the heat of you sent shivers down my spine.

"This is… unexpected," you murmured, your voice low and threaded with a thrill that left me dizzy.

"Isn't it always?" I replied, the words trembling just slightly as I fought to keep my composure.

You moved closer, the distance between us shrinking with each slow step. I could see the droplets glinting on your skin, the faint hitch of your breath as your gaze locked onto mine. Every stolen moment in the ruins, every charged glance we'd shared, now coiled tight between us, ready to snap.

"You surprised me today," you said, your tone darkened by something unspoken. "Your curiosity is… boundless. Relentless, even. You see the world not as it is, but as it could be..."

The words struck me with a force I didn't expect, my chest fluttering with a warmth that had nothing to do with the water. "An Inquisitor should be daring," I whispered, though my voice felt small in the weight of your gaze.

Your lips twitched into a faint smile, but there was a gravity in your eyes that set the air between us alight. "It seems," you murmured, "we both dare more than is prudent."

The space between us evaporated. You reached out, your fingers brushing my jaw with a touch so light it made me tremble. My breath hitched as you moved closer still, your hand sliding to the back of my neck, your thumb stroking the line of my cheek.

"Solas," I whispered, your name trembling on my lips like a secret.

You exhaled sharply, your thumb now tracing the line of my lower lip as though you couldn't help yourself. The hush around us turned deafening, your forehead nearly touching mine. My eyes fluttered closed, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. My lips parted, and I waited breathlessly for you to close the space between us.

Then, from somewhere in the camp, a loud snort broke the silence, followed by Bull's laughter and nonsensical sleep shouts.

The sound shattered the moment like glass.

You froze, your forehead still pressed lightly to mine, a shaky laugh escaping you as you stepped back. "Bull," you murmured, your voice hoarse. "His timing is impeccable."

I laughed despite myself, the sound breathless and trembling as I tried to steady my racing heart. "It truly is."

For a long moment, we stood there, the charged air between us lingering even as the spell was broken. You glanced at me one last time, your gaze heavy with potent longing, before stepping back further.

"We should head back," you said softly, though regret laced every word.

I nodded, forcing a thin smile as I followed you to the shore. The night air was cool against my skin as I pulled my robes back on, the memory of your touch still burning like a brand.

As we walked side by side toward camp, our arms brushing lightly, I felt the ache of what we'd almost shared. It was a promise, unspoken but undeniable, and it lingered long after we parted ways.

You're going to be the death of me, I thought as I reached my tent, the faintest smile tugging at my lips.

And I knew it would be true.

END FLASHBACK

The air in the ruin was cold, heavy with the scent of stone and age. The soft glow of the lyrium veins on the walls cast eerie patterns that danced across the narrow corridor as Iron Bull and I moved deeper into the ancient structure. His footsteps echoed loudly, each step a reminder of his sheer size in this delicate, cramped place.

"Watch your horns, Bull," I said over my shoulder, half teasing.

"Don't worry, Boss. I'm light as a feather," he replied, his tone light, though I caught the faint scrape of his horns brushing a low-hanging archway.

We'd been following the faint markings on the walls for what felt like hours. Each twist and turn of the ruin offered little more than dust and decay, though the sense of purpose here was undeniable. The architecture was distinctly Elvhen, its carvings intricate and precise, and the magic in the air was unmistakable.
Still, doubt tugged at me. Was this just another dead end? Another empty lead in the endless pursuit of you?

My hand brushed the glyphs carved into the wall, their patterns flowing like water under my fingertips. For a moment, the memory of you—your hands tracing similar markings, your voice soft and reverent as you unraveled their meaning—flickered in my mind.

You would have loved this place, I thought, the ache in my chest sharp and sudden. Or perhaps you already know it. Perhaps you've stood here, hands on these same walls, one step ahead of me as always.

"Boss, you okay?" Bull's voice broke through my thoughts, grounding me.

"Yeah," I said quickly, shaking my head to clear it. "Just… thinking."

We turned a corner, and suddenly the narrow corridor opened into a vast chamber. My breath caught.

The walls were covered in carvings, their detail almost overwhelming, but it was the mural that dominated the space. It spanned the entire far wall, massive and breathtaking. Figures stood in a circle, their hands raised toward a central object—a blade, sharp and glowing with light. Around them, wolves prowled, their eyes bright and unyielding.

"Holy shit," Bull muttered, his usual bravado softened by awe.

I stepped forward, my heart pounding. This wasn't just any mural. This was something important—something connected to you. I could feel it in the way the air seemed to hum with energy, the way the carvings pulled at my mind like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

My fingers hovered over the surface of the mural, tracing the image of the blade. It was unmistakably lyrium, its shape jagged yet elegant, its glow captured in the stone as if the artist had etched light itself.

"It's a dagger," I murmured, more to myself than to Bull.

He stepped up beside me, his bulk making the chamber feel smaller. "Yeah? And what's it mean?"

I didn't answer immediately. My gaze traveled over the figures, their postures steeped in reverence and fear. The wolves encircling them were unmistakable, their snarls almost alive in the flickering light.

"It's Fen'Harel," I whispered, my stomach tightening. "The wolves… they're his. And this blade… it's something they're trying to protect. Or maybe hide."

Bull let out a low whistle. "You're saying this is about Solas?"

I nodded, my throat dry. "This blade—it must be what he's after. If this mural is accurate, it's important. Powerful. Something worth guarding for centuries."

I leaned closer, my fingers brushing the edge of the central glyph. It sparked faintly under my touch, sending a jolt through my hand.

"It's connected to the Fade," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "It's not just a weapon. It's a key."

Bull shifted beside me, his usual confidence replaced by something quieter, more serious. "You really think this is it? After all this time?"

I turned to him, my pulse pounding in my ears. "Holy shit."

Bull's expression broke into a grin, his teeth gleaming in the faint light. "Holy shit, Boss."

We stood there, side by side, staring at the mural as the weight of it settled over us. For the first time in what felt like forever, I had something real. Something that might finally lead me to you.

Author's Note: Solas is up next! :)