Lavellan
A few minutes earlier...
Lavellan's gaze was fixed on the struggle between Solas and Varric, worried about what that would cause.
She knew the accidents that could happen in those struggles. And they never ended well.
With urgency, she reached the stairs, stopping with clenched fists and fear on her face, her gaze locked on the two of them, frozen in place.
No, no, no, she thought, her eyes constantly shifting between the two, trying to think of a solution that wouldn't come to mind.
Then, the world stopped moving.
With wide eyes, she saw Solas turn, just as she had predicted, and he accidentally drove the ritual dagger made of lyrium into Varric, horror on his face. He released the dagger, letting the dwarf roll to the foot of the stairs, near where she stood.
Her ears began to ring, drowning out the sound. She thought she heard a scream, but from her soul, the greatest of all emerged. It rose like the scream of a valkyrie, resonating through the entire area, her throat splitting in two, conveying the guilt that flooded her, unable to stop it.
—No! Varric!— her voice broke in two, while a sob shook her uncontrollably.
Varric fell heavily, motionless, but she was frozen in place, unable to do anything but bring a hand to her face, fingers digging into her cheeks in horror as she collapsed into sobs. She saw Rook leap onto him, shaking him, desperately calling out to him. The dwarf groaned weakly. A flicker of hope ignited in her chest, making her react to that sound.
Varric was still alive.
She wiped her tears away furiously and turned to the cause of the dwarf's condition.
Solas was looking at his hand, opening and closing it as if he couldn't believe what he had done. Then, he closed his eyes, making a fist as though he had made a decision. She watched as Solas's expression changed, transformed. He opened his eyes, that green glow clouding the violet, the decision etched on his face.
As if he had decided the accident with the dwarf had no greater significance than completing the ritual.
Lavellan felt the fury begin to burn within her. It was as if something had exploded in her chest, a detonation reverberating powerfully through every fiber of her being. Her breathing was deep and heavy, each inhalation a failed attempt to calm the storm swirling inside. Her gaze was fixed, piercing the elf, while her lips pressed into a thin line that couldn't suppress a threatening tremor. Her hands burned, opening and closing as if searching for something to strike, something to release that uncontrollable energy consuming her.
And Lavellan decided, as the cold spread inside her, it was time to be noticed by Fen'Harel. It was time to leave fear behind. She stepped toward him, furious.
—Solas!— she exclaimed, calling his attention, fury engraved in every movement, in the look she gave him, in her face, in her eyes, unique in the world.
He froze at the sound of her voice as if her earlier scream hadn't reached him. He slowly lifted his gaze, surprise on his face, as if he couldn't believe she was there. Their eyes met, violet clashing with her blue and pink.
And it was as if nothing else existed. The world stopped for the two lovers, feeling a connection tighten between them like a taut line that had never disappeared, that deep bond that had united them almost from the beginning. Solas parted his lips slightly, a small gasp as he took her in, from top to bottom, as if he thought she was nothing but an apparition, a ghost of his past that followed him, tormented him.
But Lavellan was no apparition. And she knew exactly what she was seeing in his face, in those violet eyes unhinged, those eyes she so loved, but now could only hate a little.
Fury. A fury that would burn hell itself if necessary.
And betrayal. Once again, a cold betrayal, as if for Solas it had never been enough with the previous ones.
One after another, after another.
Betrayal, burning her soul, withering her spirit, fraying a little more that bond between them.
Her hands began trembling uncontrollably. Her breathing hitched, and a torrent of something within her began to rise, inevitably, something that clouded her being, turning her into a bloodthirsty monster.
For a moment, she feared losing control, losing herself. For a moment, she thought about killing him while she observed his face, which showed a shadow of fear as he looked at her with those incredulous, pained violet eyes, as if he couldn't believe the person he once called his vhenan could look at him that way.
For a moment.
Just for a moment...
Kill him... he betrayed you...
Unleash it...
It's your destiny...
KILL HIM!
Lavellan gasped, locking all those feelings, that consuming power, that led her astray inside herself. She swallowed, trying not to change her expression but coming back to herself, holding that power deeper within, in her mental cell, locking it under chains, under locks only Lavellan herself could place.
He almost discovered her, she couldn't help thinking. Though that changed nothing. The rage still simmered within her, throbbing like a second heart.
Lavellan screamed in fury, trying to approach him, but the magic prevented her, conjuring a transparent barrier that she struck and struck and struck, causing cracks but not fully breaking it. She screamed again, frustrated, making Solas step back, shocked at her fury, at that visceral hatred, unaware it came from a heart deeply wounded by their love.
He had never really seen her in that state.
And it was normal because all that rage had built up over those eight years, along with the hatred, the love, all mixed, as her spirit suffered, changing, transforming physically, mentally.
Then, Solas shook his head slightly in that familiar gesture that had caused her so much pain and love. A myriad of emotions danced across his face, as if he didn't believe what he was seeing. The pain made his gaze harden, burning through his clothes—but Lavellan, in her fury, couldn't decipher what the god might be thinking to make that expression.
But it didn't matter. It didn't matter at all.
All she wanted was to reach him, to hit him, to stop him, to scream at him.
To ask him. To hold him. To kiss him.
To bring justice.
—YOU!
A desperate voice broke through her haze, shattering part of her fury, breaking the spell that bound her to the god. She turned her head quickly, causing her a slight dizziness. Rook, the pink-haired elf, looked at her with wide eyes, probably terrified because of her but determined as if she had no choice.
As if time was running faster than they expected, swallowing the borrowed time.
—I don't know who you are, but help me! Help Varric!— Rook pleaded desperately, holding her friend in her arms, with strength but with gentleness, as if afraid of breaking him.
Lavellan clenched the fists she had pressed against the magical barrier in her attempt to break through. More cracks appeared, a high-pitched creak rising. She glared with ambition in her eyes.
If she just pushed a little more...
But then she thought of Varric. Her faithful friend. His nicknames, his laughter, the moments they had shared so long ago.
His unquestionable loyalty, even after asking him for a suicidal mission.
She closed her eyes, casting aside the fury, shelving the hatred. She backed away from the barrier, pulling her gaze from Solas, who had frozen, alternating his gaze between the barrier, the cracks, and her, while his body tensed, as if wanting her to break it but not wanting her to at the same time.
She took her eyes off his face, a mixture of longing, pain, and guilt.
Lavellan approached Rook, determined to ignore that look, placing a hand on the dwarf's chest, seeking that weak breath, that confirmation she needed. Then, Neve, the private detective her dwarf friend had hired, approached them with an injured face but a focused frown. Harding accompanied her, also with the same expression, but maybe with more fear, although with surprise and mixed relief upon recognizing Lavellan.
But there was no time for reunions.
Lavellan began to cover the wound, grabbing the first cloth she found in her bag hanging at her waist. But then a gasp sounded. Lavellan looked up tensely at that noise her loyal scout had caused.
Harding raised a finger, pointing behind Lavellan, as if something had caught her attention. She gasped, deep horror on her face, like the Maker Himself stood behind them.
—What is that?— the dwarf whispered fearfully.
Lavellan turned, following that fearful gaze. She opened her eyes wide, unable to believe what she saw. Behind Solas, the rift widened, opening up, its green light illuminating the area even further, whipping the magic-induced wind into a hurricane. From the rift itself, two figures emerged slowly as if time had slowed before their presence.
From where Lavellan stood, she couldn't distinguish their silhouette, who they might be. But a deeply rooted fear gripped her, seeing those figures rise to their full height, an irrational, almost primal fear coming from inside her, a part of her deepest subconscious. Her gaze couldn't help but turn to that person, that elf she cared so much about, seeing him so close to those dangerous presences, her heart fearing for him, after everything. She saw Solas lose the color from his face when he sensed them, menacing, as if he already knew who or what they were. Slowly, he turned, hiding his expression and donning that defiant mask, that wolf mask, baring his teeth, ready to fight. Those figures reached their full height, also challenging Solas.
But there was no time for confrontation.
Out of nowhere, everything exploded, magic crashing down from all directions, sending them flying, unable to help it, causing their ears to ring once again. Lavellan let out a strangled shout as she landed harshly on the ground.
And, albeit resisting that oncoming haze, she lost consciousness, and everything went black.
Elvish terms used: Vhenan: Heart; often used as a term of endearment, typically among lovers
Hi! I'm stopping by here to inform you that on the chapter cover in Wattpad you have the appearance of Inquisitor Lavellan in this story, technically my Inquisitor.
As I have mentioned before, it is just a guiding appearance for those who want it, but in your imagination she can look however you want!