Note: I realised I didn't upload this here yet! This is a one-shot that takes place between chapters "Vhenan" and "Rebelion" of Out of Tune. That longfic is written from Inquisitor Ennaly Lavellan's perspective, but I wanted to study what Solas' thought would be. This story will reflect on some events from Out of Tune, but it's not needed to have read that.

This was written before we knew the truth about Solas' nature. Please enjoy and share your thoughts!

Out of Lies

Solas woke to the early dawn hues of red and orange. He opened his eyes and stared out over the mountains, but he knew he could not see the sun rising from here. This place was built to face sunset, and what a sunset it had been. He was in the lone fragment left of Tarasyl'an Te'las, far below Skyhold, in a small incline in the mountainside only accessible by magic. It only survived the blast of his mistake because of its protective position, yards below where the castle proper once stood proud.

He wasn't alone. She was sleeping next to him. He sat himself up a little. She stirred, but Solas did not want to wake her. Gently, he rolled her over and against him. She murmured softly in her sleep and nuzzled her head against his chest. He wrapped an arm around her.

This was either one of his best or one of his worst decisions he made since he woke up to this cursed world, and he wasn't quite sure which it was.

He hadn't wanted to do it. It all started with a simple question, months ago in his hut in Haven. She had come over to his place, late in the evening, seeking conversation. At that time, they'd hardly spend any time together, just the two of them, as they had both considered the other too proud. There she was with her strange Dalish customs that were at most a perversion of the ancient customs she considered them to be.

He shouldn't blame her for lacking knowledge she had no way of obtaining, but it had just hurt to see the splinters that were all that was leftover of their old society, knowing he couldn't correct or lecture her. Well, he had tried to. She hadn't quite liked that, and he could hardly blame her for that, either. He'd just tried to ignore her. It was best if he just considered her a means to an end, he had thought. It didn't help that she cursed his name every now and again. By the Dread Wolf.

But that night, she had asked him why he always frowned when he looked at her Vallaslin. He hadn't been aware that he did. But he couldn't tell her the truth, could he? That once, long ago, the lines that decorated her face, had decorated his face too? They brought back memories. She'd even called him out on the deflection that followed, but he had smiled that away. He had complemented her on her eyes and how well they matched her Vallaslin and she had blushed... He shouldn't have said all those things, but he found that he quite enjoyed her blushes and sharp responses, so he had continued.

He had believed it innocent. He had never quite considered the consequences of his actions, hadn't quite considered that she, at the receiving end of his flirtations, had been a real person with complex emotions of her own. He had never considered that she would grow to obtain feelings for him. And he had never quite considered he would grow the same for her.

He had been a flirt, once, long ago, when he finally grew comfortable in the strange thing they called a body, a physical presence. He had enjoyed witty conversations with the women around him, had found it thrilling to find out what a body was capable of. He'd been so cocky and self-assured then.

And then he'd seen her dancing in the snow, by herself, magically dispersing the descending flakes, neatly arranging them in a pattern of her choosing, surrounding her. He had watched her before she noticed him and stopped. It was then he started to notice her beauty and grace. He had already known about her compassion, determination, and wit. How could one of these current-day Elves display some old magics with such a natural ease?

He had told himself it was only because she carried his power on her palm, the power he needed, that he found her attractive at all. Yet when she threw her arms around him in the Frostback Mountains when they first gazed upon Skyhold, she had leaned in with the intent to kiss him, and he realized he wanted that, too. He shouldn't, so he had gently turned her away. He told himself this was just a temporary infatuation, a distraction, and he wouldn't disrespect her by giving in.

The woman that was sleeping on his chest woke. There was a spike in her magical aura indicating her consciousness. Her breath halted for a moment and he could feel her fingers contracting on his chest before she relaxed against him. He kept staring at the mountains outside as she kept laying against him. If she wanted him to think she was still asleep, he was fine with that. Her conscious presence against him was a comfort.

To know that she was awake, and she was here, choosing to stay close to him was more than he could have imagined. Would she still do the same if she knew the truth?

He hadn't lied to her. He might have kept an awful lot of truth away, but he'd never outright lied. He despised lies, both in telling and receiving. The only lies he allowed were the lies he told himself. He knew this, deep down. He was aware of his own lies and was aware that he decided to believe them. He wasn't sure if that wise or foolish.

He had felt so powerless after waking from his slumber. He still only had a sliver of the power he once possessed. He remembered the first time he felt powerful again, after he foolishly tried to console her in a dream. She'd kissed him and had thought he was a desire demon. At the time, Solas wrongfully concluded that she figured out who he really was, wondering how. She'd been so angry with him when she woke, but then they'd both given in to passion, and he'd pinned her against a tree and let his magic run over her body. The moment that she arched against him and raked her fingernails over his back, her breath in his ear and his lips on her neck, was one of the first times he had felt alive and powerful again.

In three ways they had already been connected, in three ways he could claim her his. His power was branded on her palm, even if she was unaware of it. Days before, she had called out Dread Wolf take me, not knowing he was right there. But that night, she had been aware, and expressed her direct desire. Her hands had descended over his bare chest to the top of his breeches, and he found that he could not do what she allowed him to. If she knew the truth, she never would. He'd wanted too, yes. But desire was an old, strong emotion, and he had more pride than to give into it. She deserved better.

He tried to get her out of his mind, after that, and for a short moment, he thought he was succeeding. Yet another lie he told himself. And then he started to invite her to more dreams. He had shown her the ruins they passed during their travel, but fully restored from memories. She expressed such happiness on being able to explore these long-gone moments. She was so tactile and would run her hands over all surfaces while theorizing on the people that used to live there, she'd notice small details like the scratches of a cat's claws on a doorpost. He could forget his worries for a moment if he listened to her chatter.

Ever since he had to experience a body, he had a hard time feeling calm, no matter how good he was at appearing so. He only ever experienced that when he was with Wisdom, his oldest friend. In the beginning had had always told himself he didn't envy her for not having a body, not having any physicality to her being, allowing her to be without restraint. He was so good at lying to himself. Her death had almost been too much to bear. He mourned her, feeling abandoned and alone and then she had appeared, in his dream. He had been thinking about her, but he hadn't actively reached out for her. But she was there, and she consoled him.

She had comforted him before. During camping one day, she had told them about her dreams, and how this cursed world made her give up on them, for all the misfortune she had to endure as an Elf, as a mage, as a woman. The realization that he was responsible for the world she cursed had been too much for him. He'd almost lost himself, but with her gentleness and patience, she had comforted him and pulled him back.

They fell in love when Wisdom died.

And while he would never give into desire, he could allow himself to give into love. Yesterday, he had taken her to this place, this remnant of his old castle. She had been so beautiful with the rays of sunset warming her face, and finally he could pull her closer against him and kiss her without restrain. She was as hungry for a touch, for connection, as he had been.

He'd shown her Tarasyl'an Te'las during their dream, after. Another lie to himself, to see her dancing around in his courtyard, laughing and enjoying herself. And she started undressing him. To feel her again, skin to skin, under him, her legs wrapped around his waist and her moans in his ear… Perhaps this world wasn't fully cursed after all.

The subject of his musings stirred. He turned to look at her and found a tousled head sleepily smiling at him as she stretched her arms.

"Good morning," he said to her, smiling at her vision. The tousled hair suited her, like that night he pinned her to the tree.

"I don't know," she murmured lazily. "With a dream like that, I'd rather it was night still."

A few strand of hair were teasing her face and he reached out to tuck them behind her ear. She twitched a little as he slowly retracted his hand, caressing her jawline. "It certainly was the best dream I had in a long while," he said. A very, very long time.

"For me too," she replied as she stared out over the colour-changing mountains in the light of dawn. "And this place is breath-taking."

It was breath-taking here, even without the sun in their sight. But once, it had all been breath-taking. This had been his herb garden, where he cultivated royal elfroot, much more potent than the current-day variety, to treat the wounds of those he'd set free. It had been a beautiful dream to experience it again, more so with her next to him.

But like all dreams, he knew this waking one couldn't last. He released a content sigh. "No matter how much I agree with you, I think we should return soon. There are likely duties awaiting you on top of this mountain."

She looked at him a little sadly before she curled up against him and looked up through her lashes. "One more minute?" she asked in a murmur.

He had already given her ten. "One more minute," he agreed as his hand reached to cup her face.

Their eyes locked, their breath was in tune with each other. He couldn't resist her, not now he finally allowed himself to give into his feelings. He leaned in to kiss her and her arms wrapped around him. Once, he hadn't understood the appeal of lips and tongues against each other, but he understood now, how much emotion could be shared with a single kiss.

Their first kiss had been pure passion and a plea for connection. That connection had been established now, and he could express new emotions. Tenderness, love, protection. She tugged on his shoulders to pull him on top of her. He moved at her suggestion. If this is what she preferred, him being in control, it matched what he preferred, too.

Her left hand caressed his neck. He could almost feel the energy from the mark flowing into his skin. It was cruel to realize that if events had panned out like he had planned, he would have never met her. But his plans did never quite work out like he intended, did they? She might carry the mark on her hand, but she was his Anchor.

Their breath grew heavy and he could feel his desire stirring. He steeled himself. Their lovemaking was best left to the Fade. He broke the kiss and pulled himself away.

"We really should go back," he said, wishing he didn't have to.

He rose and helped her to her feet, too. He packed away the blankets he had taken while the early morning light illuminated more and more of their surroundings. The only way to reach this place was by Fade-stepping through the waterfall that ran down the side of the mountains, and after that. a long and winding path back to the present-day castle.

He reached out his hand. "Hold on tight, vhenan," he said to her. She had significant magical abilities, but Fade-stepping was not one of them. It was fine. His abilities were large enough that he could take her with him.

He took a final look around his ruined garden, this place where the Veil was thin. Here, he could allow himself to dream while being awake. At the back of his mind, just before he left, Solas wondered if he would ever run out of lies to tell himself.