#Solas/Lavellan | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wombatpumpkin · 1 year

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Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types

Additional Tags: Post Crestwood Breakup, Emprise du Lion (Dragon Age), Fade Demons, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, solas hates tea, Post-Break Up, Pre-Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Doom Upon All the World, Wilderness Survival, Past Female Lavellan/Solas (Dragon Age), Lavellan Angst (Dragon Age), Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, Trying to keep it professional, Hurt/Comfort, Solavellan Hell

Summary: Stranded in a cave, the Inquisitor finds herself alone with her wounded ex-Elvhen lover.

The ground buckled slightly beneath Ellana’s feet as the spell landed squarely between her and her companions. There was a pause as the spell fizzled out, Ellana looking down and then up to meet Cassandra’s cocked-eyebrow glare. Solas shouted something that Ellana couldn’t decipher. Then came a deep and shuddering groan from below that sent her staggering backwards. A large crack splintered the mount’s face, spreading like forked lightning. The next thing Ellana knew, she was falling.

Ellana’s stomach lurched in her throat, eyes instinctively shut. A hail of rocks and dirt peppered her face. Armor clanging, resounding screeches as it grated the cliffside. A whumph as her body reconnected to the mountain’s sloping side and she was no longer airborne. Hands over her head. And then Ellana’s chest seized. She was on fire and trying to draw breath, and then the fire was inside of her. No air came. Panic.

Eyes wide open, the world was blurry and opaque, like she was gazing through foggy crystal. She tried to shout, but it came out muffled.

Water, cold and raging. The river’s hands gripped her legs, dragging her downstream. Armor heavy and threatening to drown her, she wriggled what she could from her body and looked up. Bright, whiteness above, and Ellana pushed herself toward the light. And thank the Creators, her head broke the surface and did not hit ice. A breath. And then the river pulled her back under.

Ellana felt as though she must have been in the river for hours, though hypothermia would say it feasibly could only have been minutes. When she caught a branch and pulled herself to the shore, her whole body shivered and ached.

She lay in the mud and snow, half-conscious and coughing up water. With each hacking cough, Ellana felt sure she was drowning all over again, her chest pounding like an infection had settled there.

Lifting her head, Ellana turned to see her legs still partially submerged in icy river water. With a slow groan, she dug her hands into the mud and roots, inched herself belly forward, and once free of the river, tried to stand. The world turned green and threatened to go black, a ringing building in her ears. But the feeling came and went, Ellana determinedly holding her ground. Blinking rapidly, she blew on her hands and tried to feel for what mana she had left. The battle had drained much of it. She patted down her sodden sides. The lyrium and potions, in fact most of what she carried, now belonged to the river.

Only a little mana, she concluded. No armor, no weapons. No protection from the elements. But she used what energy she had to warm herself and clothes.

Creators, did she hate Emprise du Lion.

The river was high, the snowmelt swelling it beyond its banks. Large willow trees gripped the shore with tangles of gnarled roots that might be troublesome to weave through without an idea for a path forward. High and browned reeds waved in the wind, and beams of wood and tiles littered her path forward. Debris from the attack or others like it. Behind her stood the mountain. Ellana squinted; she couldn’t make out where the battle had taken place, and the mountain’s cliffside was sheer and rocky. Her companions…

Ellana turned her attention back to the shore and began combing the river’s edge, looking for a face. Any face she might recognize. Creeping with care from rock to rock, water lapping at her feet, Ellana caught sight of something that made her heart and body stop.

A naked foot stuck up between the reeds, its toes bent and blackened. Ellana climbed toward it and held her breath. Hands over feet, crawling. She parted the plants with blanched, shaking fingers.

“Please, no...”

An Orlesian woman lay face down in the mud. Her dress, pink, silken, and hand embroidered, was torn and stained a pale ochre from the hem up. Her hair was slick with mud, and the woman’s mottled, bluish skin told that her death had been a while ago, perhaps days or even weeks in this cold.

Ellana knelt by the body and let the breath she’d been holding slowly escape. The tension in her chest unwound, but the queasy uneasiness in her stomach carried on. She bowed her head in respect to the dead and decided quickly that was all the time she had to spare.

Rising from her crouch, Ellana eyed the river and the path of fallen stone running along it. The gray water, though frozen at the edges, still rushed forward where it was deepest and darkest. If her other companions had fallen, they’d likely have ended up much the same as she, tossed up on the shore.

Then, almost on cue, a groan. Ellana jumped and turned back to the corpse, her hands raised defensively. But the woman did not stir. The river roared by, and for a moment she thought she might have imagined it. Wishful thinking. Fearful thinking. But the groan came again.

“Hello?” she called out as loud as she could manage. Her lungs still hurt, and her voice came out only as a gurgle which frustrated her and she tried again.

“Hello!”

Another moan came from her right, back the way she came and nearer to the thundering water. Feet slipping on slick moss and icy algae, hands fighting to steady her, Ellana hurried and called again.

“I’m here!” she said, clearing her throat and coughing. “Please, I’m here.”

She nearly tripped, feet catching on what she assumed was a branch caught between two rocks. Retracting and creeping back, Ellana looked down. It was an arm, she realized, bent back, and a set of fingers gripped her ankle.

Ellana dropped to her knees and pushed away the bent stalks of grass and shrub.

Solas.

A tree branch managed to pin him to a boulder, keeping his chest, head, and arms out of the water while his legs dangled in the current. The torrent didn’t quite pull him with the vehemence it was clearly capable of, his small inlet offering some protection, but any moment the river might burp up some wreckage to dislodge the half-conscious mage.

Ellana grimaced, eyes scanning his trapped body and area around him. She needed to get him out of the water, but it wasn’t clear if she could do so safely and without risking further injury. Ellana felt fairly certain she could at least rescue him from the river without slipping in, but whether she could do it without Solas suffering further injury was less clear. However, it was either risk a broken bone or leave him for dead. With a grunt, Ellana directed her mana to bolstering her strength. The magical energy lessened the muscle aches and pains, but with the surge of redirected energy came the biting cold.

“I hope this isn’t broken,” she muttered as she reached for Solas’s arm. She was only partially truthful.

Ellana pulled. She heard a sharp gasp escape him. She pulled again, sitting back on her rear and digging in her heels. His body began to lift from the water. Reaching down and wrapping an arm around his chest, she propped his head in the crux between her shoulder and chin, and guided him up and into her arms.

The two slid back into the gray-green clay that lined the shores with a gurgling squelch. Ellana dragged Solas as far as she could and then let him slip from her grasp, feeling her magics ebb away.

“Solas,” she said, reaching to shake him gently. “Solas.”

He didn’t seem to hear her, shivering, eyes half lidded. Hugging her arms over her stomach and chest, Ellana moved to inspect him and realized quickly that they were in deep trouble. Solas’s left calf was bent at an odd angle. Now that he was free from the water, spots of crimson were beginning to soil the tan fabric. Kneeling down, Ellana lifted the pant leg and wrinkled her nose. The bone just peeked through a thin flap of skin.

Returning her gaze to the rest of him, she noted one arm he kept tight around his stomach. Broken ribs, maybe? It was hard to determine with wet clothes and a new layer of mud the extent of his injuries, but she wagered he was in bad enough shape that they wouldn’t get very far.

The sun was heavy in the sky, daylight slipping quickly away, and the first stars were beginning to glimmer. Ellana rose from Solas’s side.

A cave. There had to be a cave somewhere along the jagged edges of the mountain. And right she was. Some thirty feet away, there looked to be a promising shelter, though the details of it she’d discover in a moment.

With a deep, steadying sigh, Ellana felt for her mana again. She used it as quickly as it returned it seemed. No time to let it fully recover. But again, she had little choice and prayed that they didn’t come under attack. Heart racing, Ellana slipped her hands under Solas’s armpits and dragged him to the cave. It was sloppy and perhaps even dangerous, but as she saw it, getting him to shelter was the first step in fixing their situation.

Ellana lay Solas at the mouth of the cave and stuck her head in to inspect it, making sure nobody else was home or had been home in a while. She peered down a hole between several boulders that descended a little way into the ground, not more than a few meters across, maybe two meters high. A nest of sorts that might protect them from the wind and snow, and if she could get a small fire going, maybe would trap some heat. With a satisfied nod, Ellana pulled Solas the rest of the way into the cave, and then headed back out to find what she could to build a fire and a splint.

The wind, which had been a constant and unwelcome companion, was picking up. Darkening clouds made their faces known above the mountain’s peak. Ellana shivered as she gazed at the sky, rubbing her arms and bracing herself against the whipping gale.

Ellana turned her attention back to the river, remembering the debris that had washed up along its shores. She slipped over the slick, mossy rocks, her feet very unsure of their footing with every step. And then something caught in the dying sunlight, winking at her from the riverbed. A wooden bucket, the metal bolts shiny and polished by the river, shimmering under a thin layer of ice. Making a fist, Ellana shattered through the ice and pulled up the tiny bucket. She was pleased to find none of the water leaked out. She could use this. Setting it down, bending forward, Ellana searched the shore for more treasures.

To her delight, she found more. Much more. Half of what looked to be a broach or maybe a pendant, a leaf that had split along a golden stem. A single earring with an emerald gemstone. A golden ring and loop of chain that matched.

She help up the small ring in the dying sun’s light, squinting one eye as she inspected it.

Ellana’s breath caught. She stopped and let jewelry plop back into the river. A chilly feeling quite unrelated to the winter winds made her small hairs prickle. These objects had belonged to the drowned and damned. People like the Orlesian woman who’d fallen into the river, dead already or about to be. All belonged to the river.

Ellana felt sick, backing up from the water. She turned, scooping up the bucket, and hurried back into the flora. She was here for a fire, not to rob graves. Quickly, Ellana gathered the driest branches, reeds, herbs, twigs, and whatever else she could get her trembling hands on. There was even a length of rope that she coiled around an elbow and hand before hefting her load to the cave.

She set the bucket, brimming with clear river water by Solas’s form, along with two planks of wood and the rope. The wind had started its work on her knuckles and the back of her hands, Ellana noted, turning them over and assessing the white and chipped skin. Pressing the knuckles to her lips, she tried to warm them with breath and spit. With a grimace, Ellana hurried back into the world above to gather more for the fire and filled their little cave with enough to hopefully last a few hours. Another trip was likely needed, but she was eager to get a fire going.

The fire pit was easy enough for her build and took little time once the supplies had been gathered. Sitting cross legged on the cave floor with the pit in front of her, Ellana called to the Fade. She held up a small bundle of thready twigs and ghoul’s beard in her hands. She didn’t need to conjure a huge fire, just a spark to ignite the tinder. Again, she called magic to her, but this time it didn’t come. A flutter of fear. Ellana tried again. And again. Once more. But nothing. No tingle of the Fade or whisper of the arcane.

An ache came over her wet and bedraggled body. Then heaviness. Chest tightening like she were back in the water. They were going to freeze.

The mana was gone. Used up in her treks outside to keep her warm. Ellana didn’t know how long it might take to return given her poor state.

Ellana crumpled to the cave floor and hugged her shuddering body.

“Here,” she heard his whisper and looked up.

Solas looked down at her through tired eyes, one hand limply extended. Ellana stretched upward and passed him the tinder.

“I’m s-sorry. I can’t get it,” she managed to stutter, teeth clattering. He shook his head almost imperceptibly and touched a finger to the reeds. A small spark caught. He blew gently across the flame, then winced and gasped, one hand nursing his ribs. Solas passed the small bundle back to her.

Ellana pushed herself up, cradling the small flame to her chest, and kept her body small in some effort to control her shaking. Determined, she placed the flame in the hearth she’d created and breathed her own life into it, trying hard not to read between the lines and think of this act as some metaphor.

Because it wasn’t. Solas had seen to that.

They were quiet as the fire grew, his rasping breaths mingling with hers and the crackle of the fire. Both elves were too shocked and cold and hurting to speak as night settled around them. Ellana hoped the fire wouldn’t attract anything nasty. Another necessary risk.

Once the fire was really going and alive, Ellana removed her outer layer of clothes and spread them over the cave floor to dry. She felt a prickle of discomfort, her eyes tracing her arms, tracing her stomach, tracing her legs. Exposed. And all she wanted was to cover herself.

Why Solas?

They’d hardly looked at each other in the handful of months since Crestwood, the nature of their relationship transactional and governed by the professional roles each party played. Ellana, the Inquisitor. Solas, the elvhen apostate in her service.

His eyes would slip past her. And she would be all too happy that he averted his gaze lest she wonder what he saw and thought of her.

“Did you see what happened to the rest of our party?” Ellana asked as she crossed by the fire to help Solas out of his sodden outer layer. She kept her gaze down as she worked, and his eyes remained closed, either from pain or to preserve her modesty.

“I did not,” he answered and winced as she worked his tunic past his torso.

Ellana nodded, slipping the tunic over his head and spreading it out by her drying clothes. Then she turned to his leggings.

“I’ll find them in the morning.” Ellana looked at the cave entryway with a frown. No moon, no stars. The wind whistling and picking up to a full howl. The soft patter of sleet splattering against the stones. Another pang of nausea, and she hated the words as they left her mouth.

But Bull and Cassandra were too stubborn to…too big to…she couldn’t finish the thought.

She should be out there now.

“They will be alright,” Solas said, seeming to guess her thoughts. Ellana’s back stiffened as he attempted this small crumb of comfort. She returned to removing Solas’s leggings, starting first with the hem and coaxing its threads away from the open wound on his leg. “There would be little chance of finding them in our current states.”

“I know. They’re fine,” said Ellana coolly. “We should focus on setting your calf. Neither of us are strong enough for a healing spell, I’d wager?”

Solas’s already ghostly white face blanched as Ellana finished rolling his sodden pants from his legs and feet, disturbing the tender wound.

“You are correct,” he murmured and tried to sit up a little on his elbows.

“The bone’s broken. Badly. I’ll try to be quick.”

“Ellana-”

“Inquisitor,” she corrected.

Tucking back an errant lock of hair, Ellana knelt by Solas’s feet. A little water to flush out the dirt and grime. Ginger fingers moved around the wound, guiding the water throughout. He drew a sharp breath through his teeth.

“Inquisitor,” said Solas, and then cleared his throat. “Inquisitor, if I may.” He pointed to the pile of wood and twigs she’d gathered.

“Yes?”

“Those herbs you gathered can be brewed into a tea that would allow me to sleep dreamlessly.”

“And?” she said, looking at the pile.

“It may be easier to tend to the wound if I were unconscious.” And kinder, she thought. “Sleep would be restorative. It would also be prudent and less dangerous to ensure a dreamless sleep. Demons may be drawn here with two weakened mages should we enter the Fade.”

“Which herbs? And I don’t have a cup to steep them in.”

“Cold steeping will work,” he said, gesturing to the bucket. “If you do not mind waiting a little longer.”

“You’re the one who’ll be waiting,” she pointed out and he smiled ruefully.

“Ah, yes. As that is the case, it would be my preference.”

Ellana nodded.

“Which do I need?”

Ellana held up each plant for Solas to identify, placing those needed into the bucket, and when done, set the bucket by the fire. Drawing her knees to her chest, Ellana sat with her back to the flames and shut her eyes.

“Are you injured?” Solas asked.

“I’m fine,” she said without opening her eyes. “No injuries, just tired.”

“I see. Good. I am glad to hear you came through the fall unharmed.”

“I think some of your ribs are broken,” continued Ellana. “Does anything else hurt?”

“I would agree,” he replied with a nod. “And no, I do not believe so.”

Ellana grunted. “Try not to move too much.”

Her eyes flickered open.

He lay with his hands folded over his abdomen, his eyes shut tight, mouth a thin, grim line. A sheen of sweat made his face glisten, likely from pain or perhaps fever. Indeed, he shook slightly, though the air seemed warmer to Ellana.

“Are you cold?” she asked. Solas pursed his lips and nodded. “We both need rest. Is the tea ready?”

Solas flicked a finger at Ellana, meaning for her to come to him. He didn’t lift his head or move beyond the small gesture, and Ellana picked up the bucket.

“What color is it?” he asked.

“It’s a light green.”

Solas nodded once.

“It will do.”

Ellana tilted the bucket toward him and then paused. His eyes opened.

“Forgive me,” he started awkwardly. “I am unable to sit up.”

“Of course,” she said.

He reached up to take the tea while she looped an arm under his neck, careful not to disturb his stomach, and tilted his chin up so he could drink. Ellana felt a little silly, offering him a bucket to drink from. It was terribly unwieldy, and potion leaked over the sides as she tilted it. He wrinkled his nose as the tea passed his lips, and it seemed it was all he could do to not pull away from it. Solas drank deeply, despite the flavor.

“Thank you,” said Solas, leaning back to the cave floor. “I appreciate your help.”

“It’s my job,” Ellana returned, perhaps too detached, too bitter, a small bite to her voice. She realized her tone and wished she’d stayed quiet instead.

“Inquisitor.”

Solas shut his eyes.

“I would recommend you sleep as well,” he continued, and his words began to slide as the potion worked its quick magic. “But with care. It is also unwise for you… to enter the Fa-”

He was gone.

Ellana turned an eye to him, watching his shallow breaths. The rise and fall of his bare chest. Red and purple splotches staining his skin where bones had broken. She pressed the back of her hand to Solas’s forehead. It burned with fever. Ellana chewed her lips and prayed he wasn’t also bleeding inside.

Ironic that they would be so intimate now, sitting in a cave and half-naked only after their relationship had ended. Granted, the tone was far from romantic. Clinical. But he’d always kept a distance between them, his kisses and affection fleeting. She thought she had sensed a real passion and need behind them, his hunger for her, but he’d always pull away right when the heat threatened to boil over.

Looking down at her hands, Ellana traced the places where her Vallaslin used to curve against her skin. Touching her face. His hands had been there, cupped around her cheeks. Those eyes studying her, taking in her every action and reaction.

She thinks it’s because of her .

That was what Cole had said? Cole seemed to imply Solas ended their relationship for a reason other than Ellana. But Solas had gazed upon her empty face and then withdrawn. How could it not be because of her? The disdain he held for so many Dalish. Perhaps he’d realized he couldn’t wash away that part of her.

The thought made her furious.

Cheeks blazing red, she pushed the anger down. With a brisk shake of her head, Ellana gritted her teeth and turned to the task at hand. Solas hadn’t shared how long he might be asleep.

Ellana kept her mind blank as she worked, focusing on the few inches of ankle and skin in front of her, fighting the intrusive thoughts as they popped up. Rope taught, boards bracing his calf and up past his knee. She took his tunic, somewhat dry, and having nothing else, pressed it over the wound to keep out any further debris.

There was nothing else she could do, not without rest and time to regain her own vital energy. So long as nobody with ill intent found them, they were in no immediate mortal danger.

Ellana then took up the cold tea, pressing her lips to the rim where he’d so recently put his own. Breathing deeply, she drank and nearly spat the brew out. Bitter and vile.

“Bleh!” she exclaimed, wiping her mouth, and she decided that was enough for her.

Ellana moved herself closer to the fire, but not so far away that she couldn’t monitor Solas. It was her duty after all to ensure his safety. His boss and Inquisitor, if no longer his Ellana.

Merciful sleep took her quickly, her body sinking against the stone, melting like butter. And when her eyes opened, threads of dim light fanned out across the ceiling. The fire had worn itself down, though miraculously it must have burned all night for the warmth still lingering in the cave.

Solas, however, appeared to be missing. Ellana saw no trace that he’d been there - tunic, clothes, and even the bucket, all gone. Though knowing he wouldn’t actually leave her stranded and alone in a cave after their ordeal, Ellana still felt a twinge of anxiety.

Still, she comforted herself, him up and about meant his mana was back. He was healed.

Pushing herself up, Ellana staggered like a drunkard toward the mouth of the cave, the room swimming for a moment, and then peaked her head outside. Blinking away the sleep from her eyes, she looked out across the landscape of strewn boulders, high grasses, and nodding willow trees. Ellana was first surprised to see the ground free of snow and frost; indeed, the air was hot, the grasses greener. The soft, low hum of bees and flies spoke of early summer.

“Crap,” Ellana muttered, leaving the cave and looking up at the sky which churned a greenish-gray.

The Fade.

Had she not taken enough of the tea? Or perhaps it hadn’t steeped long enough. Either way, she wasn’t in any less danger, perhaps more as Solas seemed to imply. Though maybe, Ellana thought as she skirted the edge of the rock face hiding her and Solas’s nest, she could use the Fade to scout a way forward for their trek in the waking world. The weather in the Fade was more amicable at the very least.

Ellana started to climb, pulling herself atop the roots of the mountain, over and up the stones until she had a vantage above the riverbed and meadowlands. It wasn’t a great view, but it gave her a sense of their options, and traveling along the river seemed the clearest route. Outside of the Fade, traveling by the river would be miserable, but the ground was too uneven and craggy to discern a better path.

With a grimace, Ellana lowered herself down and began to make her way toward the water’s edge. She waded through the chest-high grasses, and though a wind whistled, nothing stirred. Neither the grass, nor the trees. The little hairs along Ellana’s arms stood up, her heart beginning to race. Eyes going to the tree line by the river, to the rocks just poking their heads above the reed ocean in front of her, to where the grasses suddenly vanished. Nothing moved, not even the insects whose song was growing like thunder.

Ellana lowered herself slowly so her head disappeared from view, her ears craning, her eyes still scanning.

And then something rustled. Like an animal stuck in the brush, the weeds by the river where she’d found the corpse shook violently. Then all was still. Then movement. Then nothing.

The Orlesian woman sat up. A bloom of dark flies lifted into the air as she reanimated. Bones and joints clicked and snapped, fitting themselves back into place, her movements jerky and stiff. Her hair was raven’s black and mounted into a high pouf, though long locks of frizz stuck out at odd places. Her skin was a mottled bluish-gray, but as she sat in the Faded sun, picking twigs from her hair and readjusting herself, a rosy red began to bleed back into her cheeks. Hands hidden behind swathes of pink laced gloves smoothed her satin dress as she stood up and shook muck from her buckled shoes.

"Hello, my dear," she said in a manner that reminded Ellana of Vivienne, though her voice was higher and saccharine sweet. "How fortunate you find me today of all days. It's my birthday, you see. Come now! No need to hide any longer, though, so kind of you to throw me a surprise party."

A jerk of the neck, and the woman turned a wide and wicked smile in Ellana’s direction.

Ellana hesitated. Was it reluctance to give up her hiding spot or to meet the demon?

Shit, she thought and stood, face sour. The Orlesian woman gave a tiny, polite applause.

“Well,” she said, milky eyes not quite finding Ellana. “You are an unexpected guest, Inquisitor.” And the woman curtsied low.

“Fuck off,” Ellana growled, waving her hand. “I don’t have the time or the patience right now.”

The Orlesian woman tutted, shaking her head.

“What an awful mouth you have, Inquisitor.”

“Whatever you’re here for, I’m not interested,” Ellana said. The woman came a little closer, her body swaying. The demon chuckled, a deeper tone warping the lilting Orlesian accent.

“Oh, but I think you are. Your heart called to me, no?”

“No.”

“What if I offered you clarity?” The demon tilted its head. “Something the elf and Compassion never fully gave you.”

Ellana paused.

“How long have you been following us?”

Another snaking, tittering laugh.

“Inquisitor, come, my dear,” the woman beckoned with a lacey hand. “We can have a long heart-to-heart.”

The air grew hot, sticky like a high summer afternoon before the rain. Ellana felt her eyelids suddenly droop, her knees buckling under her. With a snap, Ellana righted herself before her body gave out.

“No,” she stated flatly, though there came a flicker of longing in her heart, wanting to know more. She knew better. Ellana turned her attention from the Orlesian woman, back to the bobbing reeds ahead, and tried to move. Another wave of heat made her mind cloud over, her head and sinuses building with pressure. Ellana closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose.

Then a laced hand closed over Ellana’s shoulder.

“Perhaps," said the Orlesian woman, her eyes glittering gold like beetle’s wings as she leaned to whisper in Ellana’s ear. Fetid breath made Ellana’s guts writhe. "If you were prettier, he'd have stayed? Look at that face of yours. Just not to his taste. How foolish you must feel. I can fix that."

"You know, I never appreciated you demons discussing my private thoughts and feelings," Ellana said thickly, pressing the back of her hand to her nose. She was sinking again, her tired body putty in the demon’s hands. "But it all sounds more ridiculous when you say it."

The woman snickered, her voice breaking and warping.

"Ridiculous? But here you are, dressing yourself in my things."

Ellana’s eyes opened. She had somehow made her way to the river’s edge, though she had no memory of doing so. Her face and neck were stretched out over a lip of rock, looking down at her still reflection. A small circlet of gold leaves was threaded through her hair, curled softly and swept back into a bun. Teardrop earrings shimmered with tiny green stones. A thin cord of gold looped around her neck. Ellana lifted a hand to her throat, feeling the delicate chain.

The woman’s face appeared beside Ellana’s in the water.

"How pretty. I believe he is used to some nobility. Something fine and artistic. Let me have you for a minute, and I can craft you into something no person could dispossess so easily." She sighed and held up between her long fingers a golden band.

Ellana laughed.

“Wow, is this how you woo people? Compare them to art like they’re mere objects?”

“Oh no,” the woman gasped, holding up the little golden ring to the sun. “This is what you think.”

“Excuse me?”

A tittering laugh that seemed to come from everywhere, and the buzzing of the bugs swelled.

“ Did my face scare him off? Was I not attractive enough for him? Are my Vallaslin really so offensive? You look over your hands, dear, and when you do, isn’t it true that you imagine those tattoos still there? Tell me, now that you’re left alone without him, was it worth changing yourself? Do you hate yourself for it? ”

The demon drew a finger along Ellana’s jaw, and Ellana felt her head drooping, chin falling to her chest. The words seemed to echo all around Ellana, in her head and outside of it like a bell. She wanted to retort, to shove the demon away, but her body weighed so heavy. It would be easier to lie down, to give in.

"Give me your ring finger. I can bring you what you seek and so much more, my dear.”

Ellana lifted her hand, holding it out like a lover at her proposal.

"Ellana!"

The Inquisitor gasped. With a spasm, she lurched away from the river's reflecting pool and landed on her tailbone.

The demon snickered.

"Oh my! It seems the ex-lover has found us!” The demon’s eyes flashed. “Scandalous."

Ellana hastily yanked from her person the jewels, throwing them far into the grasses.

The warmth snuffed out like a candle and a chill rose in the air. The water began to slow to a near stop, ice crystals blooming along its surface. A high pitched wailing bounced down the rocks and rubble, running down stream.

"Of course," the Orlesian woman lamented with a lopsided pout. ”Just when it was getting fun.”

She cupped a hand on her hip and whipped her head to fix the demons of despair shrieking and whirling their way toward them with a hard stare. Ellana’s breath was shaky, heart hammering as she spotted at least four demons coming her way.

A hand gripped Ellana by the elbow. Ellana’s head snapped up, startled. Solas hovered over her, dragging her to her feet.

"Quickly! We must flee!" he shouted. Ellana didn’t disagree. They broke into a run, sprinting from the river as the Orlesian woman howled with laughter after them.

Their legs and feet slipped and slid in flight. Solas kept one hand fast around Ellana’s, just a step or two ahead of her. He veered sharply left, Ellana nearly falling over. Solas caught and steadied her before leading them wildly through the brush as the scream of spirits chased their escape.

“There,” said Solas, pausing for a moment and pointing to a ditch a hundred feet away that dipped behind a jagged ridge of fallen stone. Ellana and Solas flung themselves toward cover, throwing their bodies to the ground. Neither breathed nor moved, listening intently. The screaming carried on and from every direction. Ellana fought the urge to press her hands over her ears.

Looking first to Solas, Ellana pressed a finger to her lips, and then pointed up. She moved like a lizard, belly pressed to the side of the rock as she climbed upward. With a small grunt, she lifted her forehead just above the earth.

Streams of ice shot into the sky were just visible from where they hid. The demons twirled around each other, their hooded faces turning in all directions as they sought their wounded prey. But mercifully, the demons seemed to be carried in the wrong direction, heading downstream rather than further up into the hills.

Ellana watched them for a few minutes more, and felt her shoulders relax as the demons became smaller dots on the horizon.

“I think we outran them,” Ellana puffed, sinking back against their hiding spot and breathing deeply. “They’re not coming this way. Luckily despair demons aren’t tenacious hunters.”

“How could you be so foolish?” Solas hissed and climbed to his feet, rounding on Ellana. She flinched and stared at him open mouthed. Having just escaped, Ellana hadn’t at all expected anger, and she felt her blood bristle at his tone. “To be so easily ensnared in a demon’s trap? Did I not warn you of the danger? It nearly had you.”

“I’m sorry,” Ellana bit back. “But was it my potion that failed to work? Did my magic fail to keep us out of the Fade? No. You failed to protect us.”

“ Your potion did fail,” stated Solas flatly. “If I had been the one to make it, we would have avoided the situation entirely.”

“Your arrogance is utterly astounding. Maybe you don’t know your herbs like you think-”

“What did it offer you, da’len?” he cut her off and mocked. “That your will bent so quickly? I expected more-”

“More what?” she challenged. Ellana circled him like an angry dog, while he stood in front of her, arms tucked stiffly behind his back. It was the first time they’d faced each other, really faced each other, since he left her in Crestwood. The sharp contours of his face, his gray-blue eyes tracking each of her movements. The soft freckles on his nose and cheeks that normally she’d have to be very close to see. The Fade had a way of accentuating her favorite parts of him. “What did you expect of me?”

“I expected the Inquisitor to be less easily distracted. Tempted by her baser desires. Gold. Jewelry. My mistake.”

I was trying to determine some way to show you what you mean to me.

“Shut up!” shouted Ellana, rising to her full height, fists balled. “How dare you chastise me like I’m some shallow child. You of all people should know me better than that. I could have left you for dead by that river. You should be thanking me for saving you. If I failed in any way, it was because I wasted so much time and energy keeping you alive.”

Ringing silence.

The moment the words left her lips, she regretted having birthed them. Solas’s eyes grew wide, shocked for a moment into silence as if she’d struck him. He took a step away from her, back bumping against the stone wall. They broke eye contact, Solas shaking his head, nose wrinkled with disgust.

“I-” he hesitated, anger and bitter hurt bleeding together, though he turned his back to her to hide his face. “Then leave me next time if I am a waste, as you say.”

Hot tears pricked her eyes, her face flushed with anger and shame. She hung her head, lips pursed. Solas moved further away from her, the distance between them growing.

“We should wake up,” he continued in a cold tone, back to her as he checked their surroundings. “We will continue to be in danger should we remain in the Fade.”

“Wait,” Ellana choked and staggered a few uneven steps to catch the hem of his shirt sleeve. Solas tensed at her touch, her fingers brushing against the bare skin of his wrist. But he stopped and didn’t wave her off. Ellana breathed deeply.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “That was too far. I didn’t mean what I said. You’re not a waste.”

Solas didn’t answer right away. Ellana was scared for a moment that he would pull away and simply vanished into the Fade. Wake up without her. But he didn’t.

“I must also apologize,” he said at length, “I saw from afar the demon had attached itself to you. I let my concern and fear get the better of me. I should not have berated you. We are both depleted and susceptible to influence.”

“Fear?”

“For your safety.”

“You don’t need to be afraid.”

Another pause.

“I mean,” Ellana hastened, “I am quite capable of taking care of myself. But perhaps today, some concern wasn’t misplaced. I mean, ma melava halani. Thank you for coming to my aid.”

Solas softened, his arms falling to his sides. He shook his head and turned fully to her. Ellana felt the beating in her heart pick up, and she suddenly wanted too much to be held by him. To kiss him. For another taste of comfort.

“I should give my thanks as well. You also saved me, as you have done on many occasions.”

“Of course, as I always will. Are we,” and she frowned, a small flush coming to her cheeks. “Okay?”

A small smile.

“You need not fear, Ellana,” he answered with warmth.

“No,” said Ellana. “Not just that. We haven’t spoken much since…I’ve missed speaking with you, hahren. I don’t know how to behave or what to say.”

“I,” he wet his lips, “Believed it would be easier to keep a distance between us. It would be too easy-”

“To fall into temptation?” she finished for him.

“Yes.”

“And do I still tempt you?”

What she meant was, is distance really necessary. And though her tone was matter-of-fact, she flushed deeper, realizing how the words came out. But perhaps she did mean it that way. The Fade had a way of emboldening her, making her tongue slip into truths she’d otherwise hide.

“I believe the demon may have had a greater influence over you.”

“You’re avoiding the question,” replied Ellana, deciding to push the subject.

They were inches apart, her hand still pinching his tunic sleeve between her thumb and forefinger, her knuckles bumping against his skin. Say the word, and she’d pull him to her, run her hands down to lace her fingers through his. Her chin tilted up, close enough that she could count golden freckles.

“The answer would not change our present situation,” Solas said.

“Which is?”

“Inquisitor, please-”

“Hah’ren,” she returned and wet her lips. “I don’t understand. What happened? What did I do to offend you? For you to pull away so completely. I want to understand so I can at least apologize. To lose your love and your friendship-”

Solas shook his head.

Firm hands cupped her cheeks as Solas moved forward in a single, fluid motion, pushing her body against the stone and sweeping her into a kiss. Ellana drew sharp breath through her nose, delighted but scarcely believing this could be real.

Don’t overthink this.

Ellana melted into him, wrapping her arms tightly around Solas’s neck and arching her body along his. A single hand drifted from her face, curving down the small of her back and paused just above her hip. He hitched her up, adjusting as he balanced her thin frame on one propped knee, pulling away to gaze upon her before kissing her again.

Sweet was his tongue on hers, like the small fruits she and he would buy in the streets of Orlais. To go with their delicate cakes. Solas moved his sweet mouth down the side of her neck, as she wrapped her legs around his hips.

“I don’t understand,” breathed Ellana, her head lolling back as he gently nipped at her collar bone.

“You lost neither,” he whispered as if it were obvious.

Perhaps the desire demon had left them both intoxicated. A flurry of hands, and a tangle of limbs, their legs wrapped around each other as their bodies toppled over into the dirt. But their fall was feather soft. Ellana ran a hand over his face, caressing a thumb against his cheek, kissing the apple of it.

“Then why-”

And that’s when she noticed.

Her other hand, looped around his waist now, pulling him into her. A gold band glinting on one finger. Ellana’s chest shook, her eyes widening as the band around her finger grew hot. Solas's form disappeared like smoke and her arms were suddenly empty.

“Wake up, my love.”

The spray of hail and wind jolted Ellana from deep sleep. Her eyes flew open and for a moment she thought she’d gone blind. Night, dense and blue, colored only by streaks of gray and falling frozen rain. She blinked rapidly, her eyelashes crusted with ice and reluctant to open. As Ellana moved to wipe the ice away, she realized she knelt hands on knees, gripping cold rock face beneath wet and trembling palms. The smell of crisp water and the roar of the river came into sharp focus.

Gray waters thundered below Ellana’s nose, not more than a foot away from her face dangling over the edge of a rocky outlet. Ellana pushed herself back from the edge and plunged a few feet to the frozen earth without any thought for where she might end up. And praise to the Creators she didn’t fall into water or worse. Her shoulder cracked against the hard ground, too numb to feel most the impact. Stooping low, hugging her body close, Ellana stood and tried to get her bearings.

This way? No, that way. Where was the fire she’d lit? There should be a light or smoke.

Stumbling forward, away from the river at least. Ellana stopped, then turned. Left. She thought it was to the left.

The cold made her mind foggy, her thoughts disjointed. Confused. Her body singing with pins and needles. Almost warm. Her feet and fingers tingled and with the memory of warmth. That meant she was close to home, right?

Ellana didn’t realize she’d dropped to her knees at first, only noticing that she seemed to have stopped moving. It wasn’t so awful on the ground. The wind wasn’t as vicious, though the hail was still unforgiving.

She looked up, teeth chattering, and noticed the grasses parting. Confused, she thought at first it was the wind, but then legs emerged. The demon. She could almost hear its triumphant tittering, feel its hands wrapping around her chest. It had followed her party, learned what it could, and patiently waited for the right moment.

A vision of the ground growing smaller, her body lifting into the air. Weightless. Hauled up like a fresh kill. What would the demon do with her? Ellana’s eyes just open, she could see a thin jaw bone, the slope of an ear. Death had come to carry her.

“Ellana,” a soft voice whispered, drawing her back to wakefulness. “Ellana.”

Ellana felt hard stone beneath her, the warmth in the air making her frosted skin burn. She opened her eyes, the world around her misty.

Solas knelt over her, his hands glowing as he concentrated. He was upright, clothes a little haphazard as if he’d hastily thrown them on.

“Y-you’re-”

“Shhh,” he hushed. “You needn’t worry about me.”

“I think,” Ellana swallowed hard, barely able to get the words out as she shook violently. “I almost fell victim to a desire demon. Did an-anything follow?”

“I saw nobody in the storm,” he replied grimly. “If you dreamed, I’m afraid, then, you did not drink enough tea. I’m glad you discovered the trap before it was too late.”

“Yes,” she softly agreed. “You found me.”

“I did,” he nodded in acknowledgment and smiled. Then his brow creased as he concentrated, and she felt a rush of mana flow through her, an energy that pulled her fully into wakefulness and soothed her shocked body.

“You’re alright?” Ellana pressed, trying to sit up, but Solas held up a hand to stay her.

“Yes,” he said with a relieved smile. “A dreamless sleep was enough.”

“Good,” she sighed. “At least one of us succeeded.”

“What alerted you?” he asked. Ellana blinked a few times.

“What?” she said.

“That you were ensnared,” he clarified. “There is often something amiss in a demon’s deceptions. What alerted you to the trap?”

“Ah,” she hesitated. “There was a ring. The demon had a gold ring that I thought I’d left, but I found it in the…illusion.”

Ellana felt her insides squirm. It had all been a dream, none of it real. Pretend play, playing out her fantasies of their recoupling. Color rose in her cheeks, replaying the scene in her mind.

“There is a body I found earlier by the river,” Ellana said. “We should burn it when the storm passes.”

“Of course,” he agreed. “Are you feverish? You look flushed.”

“A little, I would think,” she lied. Solas merely nodded and she felt a new, cooler mana fill her. Ellana grimaced and shut her eyes, letting Solas’s magic work through her.

“Do not sleep,” Solas cautioned. “Not until you’ve had more tea. Granted, it should be more potent now.”

“Lovely,” she said, wrinkling her nose. Solas chuckled.

“You understand my distaste.”

“There are better flavors if you aren’t trying to avoid the Fade.”

“Under Skyhold’s current culinary staff, I would still prefer to pass.”

“Fair.”

“But," Solas said, shifting his weight. "I mean you will not need to drink as much this time, and I will be watching over you as you sleep.”

“Solas,” Ellana paused. She didn’t know fully why she was crying. Perhaps the stress and emotional turmoil of the night had sapped her. Tilting her face away from the fire, she tried to hide the tears. “Thank you.”

“Of course, Inquisitor.”

“Ellana,” she corrected.

“Ellana,” he repeated softly.

#dragon age #solas/lavellan #solas x lavellan #solavallen hell #hurt/comfort #dragon age fanfiction

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