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Chapter Text

I am Passion. He is Wisdom. Together we are whole, apart we are two sides of the same coin. Once I watched as he gave himself to Justice, which turned to Fury and War and Rebellion. I was there with him when no one else was, when all had left him. 

Ar lath ma vhenan, Ar-melana dirthavaren, revas vir-anaris. Var lath vir suledin.

Then, in an instant, it was silent. I was asleep, wandering the Fade as aimless Passion, touching those who came near to Wisdom in his slumber. For good or ill I never saw. All I knew was I was his and would wait until the sun and moon collided for him. 

A fragment of Mythal, an old friend turned nemesis turned rival turned old friend once more, came to me in the Fade after thousands of years have passed. She wore a different face but her spirit was similar.

“I am called Flemeth, once known to you as Mythal, and I speak to the Passion of the Dread Wolf now.” Her voice brought me out of reverie and stillness. “Soon, he will have need of you again. Enter the world before he awakens, so when he needs you, you will be ready.” 

The Fade evaporated and I felt the chill of a mortal body once more. 

Chapter Text

“You have no idea what you've done.” His voice was furious but calm, filling every bit of the space around her in a dangerous echo. She was walking in…somewhere. What had happened? 

The ritual.

Solas.  

The images flashed quickly as Rook remembered, reeling from the suddenness, the overwhelming magic that was in and around her, the wind, rain, lightning, and demons howling together as the statue collapsed over Solas and Varric. Varric had grabbed Solas, only… 

Was Varric dead? He can't be-

She gasped, feeling a presence behind her in the gray landscape, spinning to come face to face with him. The man they had been chasing for a year was only a few paces away, and something constricted in her chest as their eyes met. Lavender meeting blue-gray. He stood there, shoulders broad, taller than her, looking at her as if he would like nothing more than to wreck her completely and banish her from existence. 

“I know what I did.” She found her voice, heart hammering as she mimicked his body language, “I stopped you from destroying the world.” as she said this, Solas’ face twisted in exasperation.

“I was not destroying the world!” There was a pull, and a chasm opened between them. Rook was still trying to figure out where they were. “When you disrupted my ritual, the magical energies pulled me here, into the Fade.” He sounded bitter; angry. Them being in the Fade made sense as to why everything was grey. Along with the floating rocks and debris and dead vines everywhere.

“Your physical body is unconscious, but you shed enough blood at the ritual site for a tenuous connection.”

“Blood magic?” Rook asked without thinking and Solas cut her off with a snarl.

“Firstly I abhor the use of blood magic.” He practically spat, disappearing. Rook looked around wildly; his voice was everywhere. She spun around to see him walking towards her from the other direction, silhouetted dangerously in the grayscale landscape. She found her body reacting to the sight of him and tried to banish those thoughts to the abyss. “Secondly, had I the power to control you I would already have used it.” He was glaring at her from across another abyss, this time he was higher than her, on a regal but crumbling ledge. 

“So all I have to do to get away from you is wake up?” Rook was going to grill him for everything he was worth. Finding him had consumed her existence and thoughts for a year, she wasn't about to let him walk away now. 

“Perhaps if you had practice.”

“Can’t be that hard.”

“While you practice, perhaps you would like to hear about the consequences of your actions.” Was he sassing her? Was she being sassed by the great Dread Wolf of legend?

“Meaning…?”

“The Evanuris. The “elven gods” as you would know them. Congratulations, the two worst ones are now free because of your actions.”

“Oh no you don't, you don't get to turn this around on me,” Rook was defiant, and she saw Solas set his jaw. “We wouldn't even be here if you had listened to Varric instead of stabbing him.” She couldn't help how her voice rose as she straightened up, shoulders back and chin forward. 

“Varric is…” Solas paused, trailing off, and if she didn't know any better, she thought he truly looked grieved at what he had done to her friend. “We were friends, once.”

“He still thinks of you as a friend, you bastard -”

“Enough.” There was a massive blast of …something, and it sent Rook to her knees, gasping. She felt like the world was crushing her, ripping her apart-

Just as quickly though, the feeling was gone, and Rook gasped, looking up as she caught her breath. Solas’ hands were clenched into fists, and he seemed to be taking a deep breath as he regained his composure. Rook got to her feet, glaring at him, willing him to feel her pain at Varric's hurt, but she did not know if it reached him. His eyes met hers again, and he continued as though she hadn't gotten him to momentarily lose his temper. 

“The Evanuris ruled over the ancient elves, but it was not enough. They wanted to be worshiped as gods, since ruling over the world wasn't enough for them. When I rebelled, they drew on the horrific power of the blight, corrupting all they saw and could until I trapped them. Thanks to you though, I am now trapped, and the blighted ‘elven gods’ now walk free.” As he spoke he had been pacing his ledge, almost like the wolf he was supposed to be. 

“Right, because you were innocently not doing anything when we rolled in.” 

“The prison in which I had trapped them had begun to crumble. I was moving them to another-”

“So, and correct me please if I’m wrong, you weren’t tearing the Veil down and drowning the world in demons and wild magic?” Solas held Rook’s gaze for a moment before he answered. He actually shook a little, his brows drawing a bit tighter together. 

“I had a plan-”

“Oh yes of course how foolish of me, Varric always said you’d have a big explanation for why none of this was your fault.” 

“Varric.” there it was again, the grief and regret on his face as he jerked away to pace once more. This close, Rook marveled at how clearly his emotions were worn. 

“Yeah, Varric. He said that’s your style. Never quite lies, clever half-truths that let you convince yourself you’re doing the right thing.”

“Varric is…” Solas’s eyes were downcast for a moment as he thought about what she had said. He seemed to contemplate for just a moment, and she could almost see the wheels turning in his gaze. He had a scar over his left eyebrow, and as she stood and looked at him she was acutely aware of how irritatingly handsome he was. He turned back to look at her. “...Varric is quite practiced at shading the truth himself.”

“Whatever, moving on-” Rook decided she’d rib him about Varric again later, “So those…monster things that got out. You said they were gods.” The ground beneath her feet crumbled, and she barely remained standing as the islands shifted. She saw now that Solas appeared to be standing on the shoulders of a giant statue, which was all but crumbled around him, huge cracks through the stones.

Solas was nothing if not dramatic.

“They said they were gods. Blighted, tyrannical, sadistic gods.” Rook’s hands were out to her sides as she used them to stabilize her weight. As he spoke, he once again walked closer to the edge of his platform, and Rook could have gasped as she saw what was before them. 

The ruins of the Black City. Was the Black City a prison for the Evanuris? A question for- 

“It took all my power to imprison them millennia ago.” Solas squared his shoulders, turning to look at her, a cruel smirk on his face which made her face burn, his eyes narrowing, “But I am certain you will be fine.” 

“That’s helpful. What are you, the elven god of sarcasm?” Rook could have laughed out loud if what Solas wasn’t saying didn’t exceptionally worry her. She began walking up her small island, getting closer to him. Solas’s brows were set, and this close she could almost see how tired he looked.

“Lies, treachery, and rebellion, depending on the story.” His left brow quirked upwards in a slight joke as he spoke, as if he thought his own titles were funny. His voice was lower as he spoke, never breaking eye contact. “And how could I help? I do not have my ritual dagger. I cannot access my network of mirror to travel from the Lighthouse to anywhere in the world.” Smoke or fog billowed between them as Rook continued to look up at Solas. Her body was betraying her and it was getting harder to ignore, especially since there seemed to be a tension between them that wasn’t just antagonistic. Solas’s face broke into something of an earnest expression, as if he was being honest. “All I can offer is what I know.” 

“Helpful advice from the elven god of, and I am quoting you here, “lies, treachery, and rebellion.”” Solas’s mask did not move.

“Depending on the story.” he added quickly, which really shouldn’t have been funny. The man had snark. “When you awake, be prepared. Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain are your problem to solve.” Rook’s vision started to fade, but she realized she wasn’t ready to let him escape.

“Wait!” she woke up, reaching out in front of her, gasping. 

Be careful, Rook. His voice echoed in her mind, and she turned to see Varric looking at her. They were in a dark room, both of them on cots. 

“Varric…what happened?”

Chapter Text

Rook opened her eyes to see the Fade prison come into focus. Solas stood on his ledge, she on hers.

“Back so soon? It must be worse then I thought.” Solas’ tone was mocking, and Rook frowned. “Ah, but I must be mistaken, and you have come to tell me that my fears were unfounded.” He was looking at her as if he had caught her stealing an extra slice of cake she wasn’t supposed to have, the one side of his mouth quirked upwards in a half smile that conveyed his irritation at her but pleasure in already knowing he was right.

Why did he look so…something about the way he was looking at her made her want to kiss him on his stupid lips and wipe that damn smirk off his face.

“Oh so you’re going to be insufferable about it. I appreciate that, thank you so much.” She chose to ignore her traitorous thoughts instead, especially since she couldn’t get across the gap even if she wanted to.  “Yes, you were right, all powerful Dread Wolf. I have returned to you seeking your counsel.” She gave a false bow, making a sweeping gesture with her hand, trying to ignore how his gaze was making her feel.

“Now who’s being insufferable?” came the reply, and she couldn’t help smirking as she straightened back up. Had they gotten closer? Shit.

She told him about D’Meta’s Crossing and the blight and he was remarkably cooperative. She hated how much she found herself enjoying his voice. Surely this was part of his being of the Evanuris as well. He might not claim to be a god, but to her, he might as well be. A being who had lived for thousands of years, experienced thousands of lifetimes. She found her anger stewing beneath the surface at her physical attraction to the man across the gap from her. He smiled in relief when she told him they have already retrieved his dagger, and her anger flared as the thought “I wish he would smile again” came unbidden.

What was wrong with her? She had had a few relationships over the years, some good, some bad, but no one, no one, had made her feel the way Solas was making her feel.

“Is that so?” he had that damn smirk on his face again, and she blanked.

“What?”

“Here, it is much easier to read you then you might have hoped, Rook.” Solas had a dark smile on his face, and suddenly he was gone. She spun around for a moment, trying to see where he had gone, and she felt the ground shift. She stumbled, and ran into something solid and warm. She panicked; looking up meekly she was face to face with him. She swallowed nervously, her mouth going dry as she realized he seemed to be enjoying how she was reacting. He was quick, his arm moved faster then she could react, and he seemed to lean into her, the back of his hand a breadth away from her cheek. She had unintentionally grabbed his clothes, the fine silken sheen of the elven armor he wore soft but familiar in a way she couldn’t place. He chuckled darkly, allowing the back of his hand to brush away some of the hair that had fallen into her face when she stumbled, and her face burned as she felt the heat building between her legs.

“No one has ever made your heart race the way it is now?” Solas murmured, his eyes dark and that damn smirk growing a bit wider. She was close enough, she could easily kiss him if she stood on her toes- “Ah, but that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?” His hand cupped her chin, and his touch was electric. She audibly gasped and he swiped his thumb over her bottom lip, and suddenly his other arm was around her waist as he pulled her closer. Maker’s breath-she could feel him press against her and it only spurred her own want. He leaned in as if to kiss her, and she almost shut her eyes as his lips hovered over hers.

"How badly do you want this?" he whispered, and she whimpered, feeling the want constrict in her throat and chest, wanting him to rip her clothes off, his long fingers kneading her breasts and pinching her nipples as he pushed into her again and again-

"You have done something to me." she whispered back, and he snorted, rocking his hips into her, making her gasp.

"You are under no spell." he murmured. She could feel his breath on her face, but right as his lips grazed hers and she tried to fall into him, he pulled back slightly, and she looked up into his face, eyes wide as she saw his eyes dark and his grin widen.

She had fallen for it hook, line, and sinker.

She tried to push him away as embarrassment flooded her, but he held her close, his hand tight on her neck, and he bent her over backwards some, as though at the end of a dance, if only to simply show how in control he was of her. She struggled against him but he was strong; unbelievably so.

“It is a little early for this, don’t you think?” he sounded amused, and she glared at him as he had her in a chokehold. He wasn’t choking her, but his grip was strong enough that she couldn’t move without one of fingers swiping over her racing pulse, which did her absolutely no favors.

“You, sir, are an ass-“ Solas’ mouth quirked upwards into that self satisfied smirk he seemed to wear when speaking with her, “-and I am going to kick your ass as soon as I’m able.” Rook’s threat didn’t seem quite that threatening, especially since now he knew she was like putty in his hands if he willed it. He straightened her up, then spun her out as if they were  dancing, and pulled her back into him, her back hitting his chest as he did so. Before she could react he had one arm across her chest, the other around her waist, his one hand pressing into her waist and she felt him lean down to speak in her ear.

“Somehow, I doubt that.” His voice sent involuntary shivers through her, and she reached up to grab his arm in an attempt to free herself. She found her efforts sorely lacking as he chuckled darkly at her. “Perhaps next time we could chat about this different course of action you can’t seem to stop thinking about.” Rook struggled against him, and he released her, laughing cruelly. She spun, aiming to punch him but as her fist connected with his face he evaporated, and she stumbled as her momentum carried her forward.

“Damn you Solas, get out of my thoughts!” Rook half shouted, and she heard Solas’ laugh all around her. The Fade shifted once more, and he was back across the gap on his ledge, and she was on hers. He had both hands behind his back, standing over there looking regal and stupidly satisfied with how he had riled her up.

“I am afraid that we must keep this connection, if you wish to have more knowledge about the released Evanuris.” Maker he looked so damn- “Ah, don’t finish that thought. Save it for the next time we speak.”

“Solas why I ought to-“ as she ran to jump the gap, her vision went black and she crashed into the floor of the Lighthouse as she woke up. She groaned angrily, feeling all sorts of weird and turned on and irritated at the way he had played her like a lute. She flopped onto the floor, the cool of the stone feeling good against how hot and bothered she felt.

“I. Am. Fucked.”

Chapter Text

She couldn't stop thinking about him. The way he walked, talked, looked at her, provoked her, turned her on in ways she didn't know were possible. How did she feel so connected to Solas? Was it the mind connection? No, it felt like…something more. Remembering his fingers beneath her chin, how It felt when he had pulled her flush against him and whispered in her ear, how he had teased her within a breath of a kiss, Rook had an extremely difficult time not thinking about him. Especially since every time she closed her eyes, she thought she might end up facing him again. She wanted him, needed him in ways she couldn't put into words, and she dare not tell anyone else about how she felt. As far as the team was concerned, they knew she could talk to Solas in dreams but nothing else. No one needed to know that she wanted to bang him like a door in a hurricane. Not even Solas needed to know that, but she had an inkling he knew already. Their minds were connected after all. 

It was as if her soul or spirit recognized something in him that she had never had with anyone else. Silly, since they'd truly only spoken twice now. Yet she could almost see him out of the corner of her eye if she turned quick enough inside the Lighthouse, and more then once she caught herself in the hidden music room looking at the murals on the walls, wondering about Solas absentmindedly. It didn't make any sense how infatuated with him she was. 

She once again sat in the music room, idly sitting at the piano, humming quiet nothings to herself. The sheet music she had found there was propped up on the sheet stand, and she realized that the notes were not notes she was familiar with, with bars and scales she had never seen. 

It figured, she thought, that a long lost civilization had different notes and a different music system. The veilfire runes were small on the parchment, and she wondered. Solas had not been in her mind since their…dance, and she found herself wishing he would appear, just so she could look at him. Which, she thought ruefully, absentmindedly dancing her fingers across the keys in an unknown melody, was a little bit pathetic on her end. It was going to drive her mad. How? Why? Why was she so interested in this ancient being who, sure, was giving her much needed and valuable information at the moment, but who was also using her? 

“Vhenan, what do you think?” Suddenly the room was different, and Rook blinked, being momentarily dazzled. 

“There could be… more to it, I think.” Her voice was hers yet not hers as she spoke. She was still sitting at the piano, but the room was far less cluttered, no Inquisition murals on the walls, and a tall man was standing frustratingly close yet not close enough to where she could touch him. She looked up at him, eyes of magical violet meeting gray-blue. His hair was shoulder length, a deep brown with the sides shaved, his hair falling gracefully to one side as he bent over her, a tantalizing, seductive smile on his face. She couldn't breathe, she wanted him to kiss her, to take her there, make her his once more, and she felt the need stirring deep within her. He wore deep emerald greens with golds, his clothing looking like armor but she knew it was soft to the touch. Suddenly she was gripped by the need to touch his skin, and she reached her hand out to touch the side of his handsome face. He leaned into her, his eyes never leaving hers, a look of mischievousness crossing his features. 

Rook’s skin was hot against him, the touch of his skin beneath his fingers, while perfectly chaste, was almost enough to drive her wild. She had never felt so much yearning and need for something, or rather someone in her whole life, and this Rook had lived for thousands of years. The Rook of this vision, however, seemed to know how to navigate these wild passions that flowed through her, and she turned to face the elven man, smiling softly at him, pressing her breasts into his waist where she felt his length already hard. 

“Vhenan-” the man gasped lightly, one of his hands coming to grab her hair, pulling her head back to look up at him. Rook was salivating, she wanted him and he wanted her. But he would not get his way so easily; she enjoyed making him want her, making him chase her through the Lighthouse until they ended up in his room where he would slam her against the door, his lips on hers-

“Play it for me?” She asked, pushing her chest against his waist a bit harder, feeling herself grow wet and wild with desire as she saw his eyes darken. He growled, an appreciative hum leaving her, and he slowly released her hair so she could stand. Rook had never felt so powerful, so sexy and wanted as she did every time he looked at her that way. She stood up from the piano, coming within a breath of him, knowing what it was doing to him and to her, his gaze following her. She almost danced away to the other side of the piano as he sat down on the bench, one eyebrow raised at her in a promise of things to come. He turned to play, and she felt her heart soar.

It was beautiful, as it always was. A tune that spoke to her soul and her spirit as one, and she once again wondered how she could possibly love him any more than she already did. The music filled the room, wisps chittering away outside the windows in response. There was a smiling glance, meeting at a crescendo; a shared moment of understanding, seeing each other completely, and being seen. 

Rook was barely aware that Bellara had been standing there, chattering away about the Nadas Dirthalen as she came back to reality. It was jarring, how she was in the same room as…the vision? A memory? Who's memory? Hers? She didn't know. It was jarring how she was in the same room that now looked horribly forlorn to her, filled with boxes and random things, the piano in front of her having a fine layer of dust on it. 

"Rook? Are you okay?" Bellara was looking worriedly at her, and Rook blinked, giving her head a small shake as if that would erase the searing vision she had just been a part of.

"Bellara, what do you know about reincarnation?" 

Chapter Text

“...I know you.” Rook breathed, fear creeping into her mind as her eyes met the ancient elf in front of her. The woman in front of her was a bit shorter than her, in the same type of ancient armor that Solas wore. “I…remember you.” The woman didn't seem to hear her. 

“Good, you're here. The Wolf sent us a key to get out. If you can fight, be ready for whatever the witch has to throw at us.” the woman said, and she dematerialized in front of them as if she were a spirit. 

“Rook, what’s happening?” Bellara asked worriedly. Rook looked at her friends. 

“I think…this might be a memory.” she said slowly, and Neve raised an eyebrow at her, unconvinced. 

“Fascinating!” Bellara squealed, hopping up and down quickly in excitement before quickly regaining her composure. “I mean. Yes. Let us continue.” 

“Tarasahl. That's her name.” Rook whispered, not quite sure how she knew that. The door in front of them was locked, and suddenly there was a table next to them, and on the floor, an intricate key. 

“That's convenient.” Neve deadpanned as Rook picked the key up. Something was going on and she wasn't sure if she liked it. First the memory or vision in the music room, and now…this? Bellara hadn't had a good answer for her reincarnation question. Currently they were en route to find a Grey Warden when they took a wrong turn in the Crossroads and ended up…here. Rook clicked the key into place in the door, which swung open silently. As they walked through it, walls materialized in front of them, and blight was everywhere. 

“Maker's breath…” Neve whispered. There were half mutated halla, dead, hanging from the ceiling in it, along with half a dozen other unidentifiable creatures. There was veil fire burning on a pillar, and a cold, cruel laugh shook Rook to her core as it echoed all around them.

“Ah… The Dread Wolf's Shield has come out to play.” Somehow, Rook knew it was talking about her. “Your passion was never enough for him, darling. That's how Mythal turned his head-”

“Don’t listen to her.” NotRook spoke, and Rook felt once again the trappings of living a memory. Or so she thought. Bellara and Neve were looking at her, very confused, and Rook looked down, drowning out whatever the voice was saying. Her armor and weapons had changed; she was dressed similarly to how the other ancient elf, Tarasahl, was dressed. She felt stronger, angrier, and knew that the voice they were hearing was Ghilan’nain. “We must help Tarasahl escape.” 

“Uh. Rook?” Neve took a step towards her. “What's going on? Why do you look…”

“Like an ancient elf?!” Bellara finished for her. “I wonder if-”

“We don't have time.” NotRook spoke again, and it was like Rook was watching the events unfold from afar. She had to figure out what was going on. Yet, somehow, she knew that NotRook was still her, and it felt like she was recovering a part of something she hadn't realized was missing from herself. NotRook led Neve and Bellara through the labs, grotesque monsters and dead elves littered the floor between the blight tendrils, and NotRook bravely kept going, her ancient Elvhen armor glinting regally in the light of the Veilfire that illuminated the prison. NotRook fought with such an ease that Rook had never seen before, slicing and dicing her way through the darkspawn before Neve and Bellara could fire off any spells of their own.

 They exited the labs, running up a flight of stairs to see a masked woman standing over Tarasahl, cackling. 

“Here, the blessing you deny!!” Ghilan’nain must have looked like that before she had twisted herself into the obscene monster that they had seen escaping the Fade. Her mask was overly pretentious. 

“No-!!” Tarasahl screamed in agony, blight tendrils wrapping up and around her before the two figures faded into nothingness as NotRook made it to them. 

“Damn.” Neve muttered, and NotRook growled, racing ahead to cut down the small horde of darkspawn that awaited them.  

-----

“Solas…!” NotRook raced to him, the Dread Wolf, as he kneeled beside Tarasahl, examining the damage done to her. Her sclera were black, the veins in her face turning black as well, her breathing labored as she lay on the ground. NotRook paused however, seeing Ghilan’nain on the stairs in front of them. 

“You.” Solas’s voice dripped with venom as he glared at Ghilan’nain. “You would unleash a blight on this world and call it a masterwork. You! Who were the most sensitive of us!” NotRook's fury matched Solas’s, and Rook could feel it. There was a tether between the two of them, something she couldn't quite place, but she knew it deep down that something connected NotRook to Solas beyond just a sense of love or duty. 

“All that I am belongs to the pursuit of creation. You chose to constrain yourself. I must climb to the heights understood only by gods, and I go to them now.” Ghilan’nain turned, laughing, her figure fading just as it had before. Solas looked at NotRook, and Rook felt her heart break at the look on his face, his body language. 

“Wolf.” Solas and NotRook looked at Tarasahl as she spoke. “You are greater then any of them. Please. Help me.” Her voice broke, tears streaming down her face as the blight took hold of her. 

“Solas?” NotRook's voice was quiet, almost unrecognizable. Neve and Bellara had vanished, probably spat out of the memory already, and Rook continued to watch helplessly from within her own mind. “Please. You can help her. I know you can.”

“Forgive me.” Solas’s eyes closed momentarily as he weighed his options. He looked up at NotRook, and she felt her heart break once more. This war would kill them both, or worse, drive them apart, she thought. Rook realized that NotRook's thoughts were her thoughts. It hit her like a bag of bricks; she was this ancient elf that had loved and been loved by Solas. She was his. She didn't understand how or why, and Rook was quite certain she didn't love the Solas of today (no way, right? Fucking prick trying to wreck shit and manipulate her), but she felt in her spirit that this was a fact. She was an ancient elf reborn, and she must strive to find out how and why. 

“Forgive me…” Solas’s voice brought her out of her reverie, NotRook's hands clenching her swords tightly, the black blood of the darkspawn dripping from thickly. “You should leave. You should not witness what I must do.” Solas stood, holding his hand out to NotRook, and NotRook dropped her swords, reaching for him as if he was the air she breathed. She clasped his hand, gasping as he pulled her in close, resting his forehead against hers. 

“Vhenan.” She whispered, tears threatening to spill over, “Let me stay with you. You should not be alone.” Solas's hair was impossibly soft as it tickled her face, and she gazed into his eyes as if it were the last time she'd ever do so. She held his hand in hers, her breath catching in her throat. 

“Close your eyes.” He murmured, and she did. Solas drew a rattled breath, and there was a moment of silence. She couldn't help the gasp as his lips found hers, and Rook was back in herself, kissing the Dread Wolf as if she had never been kissed before. His tongue easily slid into her mouth, and she welcomed him gladly, moaning quietly. Nevermind that moments ago they had been fighting an ultimate evil, nevermind that they were standing in a puddle of darkspawn blood. Rook loved the way he tasted, how easily she fell before him and how badly he wanted her. She couldn't stop the electricity flowing between them from where their bodies touched, and she found herself pushing against him, her arms around his neck, tangling in his hair as he leaned her back, one arm supporting her, his other hand…

There was a bright burst of heat to their side, and Rook dully thought through her haze of lust that Tarasahl had been incinerated. In her heart, she knew it wasn't right, but as his hand came up to cup her ass, pulling her against him, she realized that NotRook and Rook didn't quite care so much. Maybe that was wrong, but with how Solas was kissing her she felt it didn't matter that much. She moaned as she felt his length against her cunt, rolling her hips into his, and Solas chuckled darkly, breaking away for a moment to catch his breath, their foreheads still pressed together, noses touching, lips barely a breath apart. His violet eyes were so full of emotion; pain, love, anger, adoration. 

“Ir abelas ma vhenan.” Solas murmured, stealing another kiss from her. Rook felt his lust against her, but she knew this was absolutely not the time nor place for lovemaking. “Return to the Lighthouse. I will meet you there.”

“Solas-”

“Please.” His voice cracked as he closed his eyes briefly. “Please.” He was pleading with her, he did not want her to see what he must do. Rook dared a glance to where Tarasahl had been laying. There was naught but a smoldering pile of ash. 

“I will go,” she began, “But only because you refuse to let me stay.” NotRook stepped away from Solas, their hands still joined. “I will wait for you, as I always have.” She let his hand drop, and walked past him, feeling like a part of herself was staying behind. 

“I know.” Solas’s voice was so quiet, she wondered if he had meant to say it aloud, but when she tried to look back at him, the haziness of the memory was gone, and she was standing next to Neve and Bellara once more. Bellara was holding a glass statuette of a wolf that looked like one of the howling Fen'Harel statues they'd seen in Arlathan. 

“What was that?” Bellara asked excitedly, and Neve had one hand on her hip, a knowing look on her face. 

“I believe we just saw one of Solas’s memories.” Rook said, and mine, she thought. “What's with the wolf?”

“Oh! It was sitting here, and the Caretaker said we should take it back to the Lighthouse with us. Not sure why but I'm sure we'll find out!” Bellara was so bubbly, it was difficult to think about the horrors They had just sliced through.

“What was that though?” Neve asked, “It was like you were a completely different person back there. I don't think I've ever seen someone move so quickly.” She looked suspicious, and rightfully so.

“Well…” Rook wasn't sure she wanted to tell them what she was thinking. She sure as hell was not going to tell them she made out with Solas moments ago, the memory making her hot. “I'm not sure myself. It's like I was watching me through someone else's eyes.”

“That is so strange.” Bellara said, and Rook nodded, hoping they'd leave it alone. She could still taste Solas, and it was maddening and oh so confusing. 

What's worse, is she most likely had no one she could talk to about it.

Except Solas.

Chapter Text

“Ah, Rook. When last we spoke, you were hunting for followers of the Evanuris in hopes of finding…specifics. Has your search been successful?”  Rook took a moment to steady herself. So much had just happened in such a short amount of time. Not to mention the memory of Ghilan’nain’s labs still very recent in her mind. She remembered the last time she had seen Solas, where he had played with her emotions and reactions to him, and she remembered the past Solas, who was apparently her past self’s entire reason for being. In hindsight that didn’t seem super healthy, but if her suspicions were correct-

“Yeah. About that.” Rook took a moment, trying to find the words without staring at him. It was proving to be extremely difficult. “Both the Antaam and the Venatori are working for them.”

“Unsurprising.” Solas stood there on his ledge, having the audacity to look as if he hadn’t teased her so badly the last time they saw each other. Teased her to the point that she was seeing memories she wasn’t entirely sure were hers. “The Venatori want magical secrets, and the Antaam want to destroy anyone opposing their brutal expansion.” Had he always looked so good in gray? She tilted her head slightly, admiring him despite herself. “Both will readily bow to anyone who promises them power.”

“It’s more then a promise this time.” Rook took a deep breath, steadying her thoughts, knowing Solas could simply reach out within the Fade with his magic and see right through her façade. “They have dragons.”

“Dragons?” Solas’s eyebrows shot up; “Then it is worse than I had feared.”

“We drove off the one the Venatori brought to Minrathous, barely.” So, we’re just now going to acknowledge this unspoken tension between us? Cool. I can do that. Rook’s mind churned in slight annoyance at Solas’s demeanor. All business, all war, no making out.

“Have you determined how the dragons are being directed? If it is blood magic, it may be possible to disrupt their control.”

“No, they’ve blighted the dragons.” Rook said bitterly. “The blight seems to be their favorite toy right now.”

“Of course.” Solas said bitterly, casting his eyes down for a moment. His gaze snapped back up to Rook’s, and Rook tried to hide the butterflies that erupted in her stomach when their eyes met.

“We ran into some Venatori who could control darkspawn as well.”

“Elgar’nan would not bestow such power unless the darkspawn were to serve as the main force of his army.” Honestly, Rook could listen to him talk for hours. Someone needed to hit her, with a chair, over the back of her head because of it. “And I suspect Ghilan’nain will see the darkspawn as new subjects for her…modifications.” Rook considered asking about the lab memory her, Neve, and Bellara had stumbled through. The one where she had made out with him briefly while he incinerated an agent of his. Maker but she would die to have him kiss her like that now.

They continued their discussion, the back and forth of how he was not ‘destroying the world’ but trying to return it to as it should be.

“I had a host of spirits ready; they would have helped minimize the loss of life.”

“Do you have any idea what you sound like?”  Rook felt her mouth curl into a snarl as she spoke. “You could have actually saved the world from the blight, but instead you chose to kill thousands of people with your…your vanity project!”

“It is not vanity!” Solas’s voice sounded broken, “I broke this world. I am the only one who can fix it.”

“Spoken like a god.” Rook scoffed, shaking her head at him.

“I am not a god!” Solas had no right to look at her in that tone of voice. She was supposed to be mad at him, trying to make him understand that tearing the Veil down and letting the raw magic kill everyone was a bad idea. If she was supposed to be mad at him, why was her body reacting this way? Why was he so damn attractive? “I am as I have always been: a man, all too aware of his failings…but equally aware that if he did not act, accepting the judgment it would bring, all would be lost. They called me the Dread Wolf. What will they call you, when this is over?” Deflecting, as he always did when they spoke.

“I really don’t care what anyone calls me.” Rook said, spreading her hands out. “If they have time to call me something, at least they’re alive.”

“Acceptance. You are willing to face the consequences your actions may one day bring, because the world needs you.” Solas’s mouth turned upwards into that ridiculously charming smirk of his. “I believe I can work with that.” Rook felt something inside her twist at the way he said it. She was suddenly hot, and she grit her teeth, ignoring it. The conversation continued, with him telling her she needed a dragon hunter, a fade expert, and the Grey Wardens.

“The First Warden won’t listen. He even threatened to drag me off to Weisshaupt to put me in jail.” Solas smirked at her.

“I have faith in you Rook.” What? NO, you do NOT get to be this charming- “You seem to have a knack for gaining the cooperation of your adversaries.”

“Speaking of cooperation…” Rook brought her hands in front of her, tapping her fingers together nervously, eyeing Solas shyly. “Um. What do you know about reincarnation?” Solas raised an eyebrow at her, his mouth doing the sexy smirk thing again.

“It is exceptionally rare, albeit not completely unheard of. Why?” Rook wondered if she looked anything like her past self. Highly unlikely, but who knows.

“So, I am aware that if a spirit dies, it has the potential to reform in the Fade, although most likely with no previous memories.” She rattled off, and Solas actually looked impressed that she knew that. “So, I don’t know, I might have stumbled upon certain…things…that have made me question…other things.” She finished lamely, and Solas scoffed at her.

“I cannot help you if you do not give me the information required.” He said dryly. Rook bounced on her feet for a moment, trying to decide if she should tell him or not.

“I feel so old,” she admitted quietly, “I'm young, but I feel stretched, and thin, like my soul has lived a thousand years.” Solas’ face did not change as she let this spill out, and she realized she hadn’t planned on telling him this at all. “We saw the memory, of you at Ghilan’nain’s lab. You fought against them, and maybe had things been different, I imagine I would have sided with you then.” Solas looked away, his body stiff, hands clasped behind his back, still looking regal and proud even in defeat. The gap separating them seemed to grow smaller. 

“Even if you had,” she hadn't expected him to speak, “it would not have changed how things came to be.” His eyes met hers, the beautiful violet-or blue? of his eyes standing out amongst the grays in this prison. 

“Maybe not.” She admitted, a bit unsure why she found him so stupidly attractive. Was it the power he emanated? The pure will to try to save the world from such great evil? His endless wisdom in helping them, despite their jabs and scorn thrown at each other? “But we can't change the past. We can only move forward and do better.” Solas’ mouth turned into a humorless smile; bitterness drawn on his features. 

“That is what I was trying to do, until you came along and ruined it.”

“The world would have burned!” Rook was surprised at her own anger at him, but Solas took her anger in stride. “Even at the beginning, demons were everywhere, before the Evanuris were released. We had to fight through a storm of them to even get to you!”

“And look where that has led us.” His sneer was enough to make her want to throw something at him. 

“You are impossible.” Rook threw her hands up in exasperation, only for Solas to chuckle darkly at her.

“Yet you keep thinking about me.” She whirled around so fast at how his voice was in her ear, only for nothing to be there. She looked back to his ledge, and he was gone. Fuck. “Tell me, Rook, what is it about me that keeps me in your thoughts?”

“Probably my insane desire to punch you in your smug face- “she was thrown against one of the rocks in the prison, Solas’s face inches from her own, his hand tight around her neck as he held her in place. She grabbed his wrist with both hands, trying to pry him off, but it was no use. The man, despite his claim otherwise, was basically a god compared to her, and his strength was so far beyond hers.

“Understand this,” his voice was low, his eyes almost glowing with fierce intent. He brought one leg up, forcing itself between her legs, his knee digging into her cunt and she could have whimpered if the situation was appropriate. “They do not call me the Dread Wolf for nothing.” Rook, despite herself, and the precarious situation she found herself in, scoffed, her mouth turning up into a smirk.

“Then tell me about the Shield of the Dread Wolf.” Solas’s eyes flashed for only a moment, and his grip on her neck grew tighter. He leaned in closer, so close she could see the specks of color in his eyes as their noses brushed.

“Where did you hear that name?” ah, so he knows whoever that was that she saw/was in the memories.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she coughed, grinning despite the situation.

“I would have you tell me, unless you want me to tear it from your lips.” He growled, and Rook couldn’t help herself.

“Maybe…” Rook strained against his vice grip on her throat, tight enough to hurt but not enough to choke her air supply, “Maybe I remembered.”

“What?” Solas’s eyes widened, his grip on her throat still tight. “That’s…” he released her, backing away, and Rook fell to the ground unceremoniously, coughing as her hand went to her throat to rub it. She stood quickly, eyeing Solas. Solas was staring at her as if he had never seen her before, one of his hands clenching and unclenching as the wheels in his mind turned at an impossible pace. The air around them crackled with magic.

“Not sure myself.” Rook admitted, “But obviously she meant something to you-“

Rook woke up with a start, having fallen off her couch in the meditation room.

“Really?” she called out, her voice echoing slightly in the dimly lit room. “You’re just kicking me out? Rude.” She pushed herself up off the floor, and sighed. Her throat was still sore from where Solas had choked her. She would absolutely have to find out more about this Shield of the Dread Wolf.  

Chapter Text

They had always been together. When the world blinked into existence, he had held out his hand to her, and she took it gingerly, his presence a comfort even then. They would chase each other as children did, racing and running, laughing and discovering the world together. It was bliss, her Passion igniting his Wisdom, the more he learned and shared the more she wanted to know and understand. They were happy, for a time.

Until Justice came. 

Wisdom was curious about Justice. Passion followed him, ever behind, always with him. Passion felt something unpleasant inside as she watched Wisdom and Justice converse. She said nothing though, for she did not own Wisdom, and would not try to control him.

Justice chose to join a few others, becoming more. Like the Children of the Titans. Justice became Mythal.  

and Wisdom became Solas. 

Passion fretted, for a time. She followed through the Fade, but he reached out to her less and less. Afraid of losing him, she became one of the People as well. She chose a name, Reva, as her own.

Wisdom, rather, Solas, was jubilant when he saw her coming to him. For a moment, it was as if nothing had changed, but Mythal was there.

The war with the Titans raged. Mythal pressured him to do things he did not want to do, and Reva felt an ache begin to grow inside her every time it happened. 

“I cannot do this without your help.” Solas’ eyes were so brilliant and blinding, and even after a thousand years she found she could not meet his gaze for long. They were such an earnest shade of blue, the color of a summer sky at its height. His tone was pleading, begging her for help. She was shorter, as one of the People, looking up at him in what felt like an achingly intimate moment, and once more she found her heart aching for him in ways she had never known it could when she was a spirit.  

“I…” her voice faltered, her gaze dropping to this collar bone, having realized that was safer for her heart then to keep eye contact. “I do not think this is right, lethallan.” She had followed him without complaint for centuries. She had been forged into a sharp, brutal weapon, and while she had magic, she felt it fairer to fight with blades. Call her sentimental, but none in Elvhenan save perhaps Elgar’nan himself could best her. 

Solas might could, but she would not tell him so.

“Mythal insists that it is the only way.” His voice broke, and her gaze met his again. There was so much pain in his eyes, in his voice, even in the way his shoulders slightly hunched, and her heart broke for him. They were standing alone, in the war tent that had been erected in the mountains. The army had moved on, Mythal and Elgar’nan going with the bulk of the force to meet the Titans head on. It was eerily quiet around them, with only the occasional sound of the wind through the tents. He stood there, in front of her, in his worn armor, brown hair elegantly spilling over his shoulder, making her breath catch in her throat. She had known almost as soon as she became Flesh that she was forever entwined with him, but she hadn't quite understood how deeply in love she would fall with him. An requited love, which was painful to bear, but she bore it if it meant staying by his side. 

“Again, with Mythal.” Reva couldn't hide the contempt in her voice, casting an angry glare aside. Mythal’s vallaslin marred his handsome face, and Solas seemed surprised at her tone.

“She is the wisest of us-”

“Is she?” Reva couldn't stop the anger creeping into her voice. “She has destroyed you, Solas. She has taken and taken and never given you anything back.” Solas’s eyes widened at the emotion in her words. “And she will force us, force you, to do this…this terrible thing, and I know in my heart that it will break you even more.” She felt the tears before she knew she was crying. What an odd sensation. 

“Reva…” he didn't seem to know what to say. The air had become heavy, and Reva shook indignantly, and she chewed her lip, closing her eyes momentarily. 

“I am sorry. Ir abelas.” She said softly, wiping away her tears. “It is not my place.” She turned to go, her strides almost taking her out of the tent when she felt his hand grab her arm. She stopped. She couldnt look at him; the pain was too much for her. 

“You are my oldest and dearest friend, lethallin.” His voice was soft, vulnerable. “Why did you not say anything?”

“Because…” she took a shaky breath, turning to look at him. Creator Spirits damn his eyes for shaking her to her core. “I could not say because I see how you look at her.” The truth of it came tumbling out, and Solas had the decency to look stunned. “As if she is the sun, and you only want to be closer. You have followed her from the beginning, and I have followed you.” She yanked her arm away from him, and he let her go, the confusion and shock of the revelation still on his face. “Ar lath ma, vhenan.” She spoke from her heart, her spirit reaching out to his as she did so, and she felt it brush up against his momentarily. She was not going to wait for his rejection though, and she turned and fled, not looking back.

.....

The death of the Titans reverberated around the world. Months turned into years, and she made a quiet life for herself far away from the empire of Elvhenan. It was peaceful, a small house set on a cliff, facing the ocean, with a large garden to tend to for food. Playful wisps would come and go, rattling the windchimes she kept in her windows. Her home was small, simple, and she was untroubled by the events of the world. She didn’t want to think about Solas, it hurt too much, and she kept herself busy with mundane tasks, purposefully not using magic to avoid making it easy.

Whispers of a rebellion came to her though. The Evanuris, self-proclaimed gods, were waging their wars against each other across the empire. The rebellion had started in protest of their abuses. Some of the wisps, who would stay for a day or two, would chatter excitedly about this new rebel, Fen’Harel they called him. Despite herself, despite the isolation, she found her thoughts wondering if Solas was alright, if he was caught up in the rebellion at all. Her heart still ached when she thought of him, her vhenan, and so she chose to go to the ocean, playing the with the wisps who loved the water.

She came back to her home one evening, the wind gently making her windchimes sing. She closed her door, locking it with magic as she always did. She lit a torch, casting a soft glow about her small kitchen area, and she went to the wash basin on the counter to wash her hands of the dirt from the day. She was so focused on not listening to anything but her own thoughts, that she did not hear or even sense him behind her.

“Found you.” His voice was soft, quiet, seductive, and in her ear. She froze, her hands still damp, and she felt him behind her, his presence suddenly overpowering. How had she not noticed him in the shadows? She did not dare turn around, for fear of what she might see or say.

“Solas.” Her voice was just as quiet, her heart hammering in her chest. His hand ghosted her skin, starting at her shoulder (she wore loose clothes these days), his finger tips trailing down to her wrist, where his hand was barely a breath away from hers.

“Will you look at me?” spirits he was so close. She could smell him, leather, oil, magic, and something musky that made her mouth go dry. His lips were touching the tip of her ear, and she trembled involuntarily.

“Why are you here?” she was still frozen in place, his chest pressing into her back, his fingers ghosting her wrist and his breath hot on her neck. She was scared, confused, and…exceptionally aroused.

“I have been looking for you since you left.” His voice was still low, and he backed away from her. She released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in. “Look at me.” She didn’t budge, trying to control her breathing. “Please.” Spirits above and below, fuck. She swallowed, turning slowly, keeping her eyes from darting to his. Slowly, painfully slowly, she raised her eyes to meet his. She couldn’t help the gasp that she let out.

“Solas, your…your vallaslin-“

“Gone. I burned it off myself.” He had a deep gouge over his left eye that appeared to still be healing, but for the first time in centuries his face was unmarked. She could see the hint of freckles on his cheeks, the strong line of his jaw, and without thinking she had reached up to touch his face. Her hand brushed over his cheek gently as she marveled at seeing him again, truly seeing him, and he stiffened slightly at her touch. She smiled gently at him, and he returned it, and for a moment they were the simply the spirits of Passion and Wisdom once more.

“It is good to see you again.” He murmured, his hand finding hers, squeezing it gently. Reva felt her pulse racing, his eyes searching hers. Damn his eyes, they were always her undoing. She swallowed nervously, and backed away from him slightly, hitting her counter in the process. He didn’t release her hand, but she dropped her other one from his cheek and clasped it to her chest.

“Why are you here?” her voice was pained, and she looked down, fighting every instinct to run into his arms. “Is Mythal not entertaining you anymore?”

“I left the Evanuris.” Her eyes snapped back up to his, surprised. “After the war with the Titans, Elgar’nan decided he would remain in power, as a god.” He spat the word out with venom, and she admitted to herself that she had heard such whisperings from the roaming spirits. “Mythal joined him.”

“Shocking.” Reva couldn’t help the comment before it came out, and Solas quirked his lips up in a smirk at her comment.

“Yes. I was a fool.” He admitted, glancing down at her hand for a moment.

“You have not answered my question.” She pushed, and his eyes met hers again. Had his eyes always been so blue?

“I admit I sought you out.” He said quietly. “It became clear that you did not want to be found, and I wanted to respect your wishes.” He trailed off, and Reva raised an eyebrow at him. His hair still flowed gracefully down his shoulders, his shoulders still broad and defined. She still had to look up at him, and his choice of clothing left his throat exposed, showing his collar bones, and she had never considered bone structure to be very attractive but with him here in front of her, after years apart, she found him especially striking, as if he had somehow gotten more attractive since she had fled that tent so many years ago.

“You seem to have found me.” She said quietly. She tried to remove her hand from his, but he held her tight, and his gaze seemed to intensify.

“I need your help. With the rebellion.”

“Why, pray tell, do you need me?” she scoffed, pulling at her own hair that had fallen out of its usual pony tail.

“I must fight for the People, since it was my mistakes that led to them being oppressed so.” He took a slight step into her space, and she had to tilt her head back some to look up at him. He had never stood so close to her before, not like this. “I need your abilities on the field.”

“You need another fighter? Is that all?” she scoffed, looking away. The knot in her chest was tight, her blood pounding in her ears. “Why are you here Solas?” her voice broke, her broken heart ready to spill from her eyes once more (as if she hadn’t cried enough about this man in the last centuries). She jumped as his other hand came up to her chin, tilting her face back to look at him. He had gotten closer, their chests were almost touching and she could not breathe-

“Ar lath ma, vhenan,” his voice was a whisper as he leaned in close to her, his nose touching hers, and she felt the tension building in her stomach and chest- “You are my heart. I had to find you.” Before his lips touched hers though, she had to ask-

“When did you realize this? Or decide this?” he couldn’t truly be saying this to her now, she had given up on reciprocation for her feelings ages ago-

“When I couldn’t find you.” He murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek, kissing away a tear that had fallen.

“My heart cannot take a lie.” She warned, halfheartedly, and Solas brushed his nose against hers again, his lips right above hers, his eyes half closed and lidded as she mirrored his body language.

“Vhenan.” He said it again, softly, with such feeling, as his spirit reached out to touch hers the way she had done to him in that war tent, and his feelings crashed over her like a tidal wave. She couldn’t help gasping as he finally kissed her, tilting her head back, his hand cupping her chin, his other hand releasing her hand to move to wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Oh how she had longed for such a moment as this. Solas had her pinned against her counter, and her mouth opened against his, their tongues dancing as their spirits mingled together. She couldn’t help the moan of satisfaction she gave as he kissed her with a passion, with a sense of urgency that she had never felt before. She tangled her hands up in his hair, pressing herself against him, her back arching as he dipped her further back, and with a swift movement he had wrapped his arms around her waist, and hoisted her onto the counter so they could continue. She gave a hum of approval, wrapping her legs around him, his body taut and lean and muscular from years of battle, and he smirked into their kiss as one of his hands began to make its way up her inner thigh, his fingers drawing lazy circles against her exposed skin.

“Solas-“ he pulled back from her, his forehead resting against hers, his eyes searching hers.

“Reva?” his voice sent a shiver down her spine, and she couldn’t help the curl of a smile forming on her lips.

“Perhaps we ought to move to the bed?” she suggested slyly, and Solas gave her his signature smirk that made her heart flutter.

“As my lady commands.”

Chapter Text

Rook woke up slowly. She couldn't remember what she had been dreaming about. It had been important. So very, very important, and despite her grogginess She felt a rush of different emotions rip through her; anger, betrayal, love, happiness, then back to anger and loss. She sat up on her bed, holding her head with one hand, trying to sort through it all. Had Solas fucked with her mind some more? She knew he was doing it, could feel it in the faintest tugs of her mind, but it was just enough that she couldn't figure it out and no one else seemed to notice. 

She had somehow gotten the Lighthouse to swap out her chaise lounge chair thing for a proper bed. They had gone out for a few days, and she came back to discover the couch and tiny table gone, with a round, low bed in the center of the room, taking up the space where the small table with candles had sat. It was infinitely more comfortable, and much larger, and she had started to enjoy falling asleep in it, watching the fish. It was mesmerizing, calming, and it helped clear her mind for a short minute before she passed out. 

Harding and Bellara were both envious of her round bed, and Bellara was trying to see if the Lighthouse would give her one as well. So far no such luck, but Bellara wasn't giving up. Taash would stand nearby, with Harding close behind, as Bells would try some interesting combination of tinkering and magic, and Taash had started to shout random instructions as if it would help (it absolutely did not). 

Neve and Lucanis would drink their coffee, watching the antics with mild interest, while Davrin and Emmrich would try to keep Manfred and Assan from arguing with each other. Not that anyone knew what they were arguing about, but Rook found it cute to watch. Poor Varric stayed in the infirmary still, and she was beginning to worry that he wasn't healing. The lyrium dagger had done something to Harding, and she had only touched it. Varric had been stabbed with it, and he mostly just slept. 

Rook swung her legs over the edge of her bed, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she did so. 

Something wasn't right here. Varric should be getting better. Or at least the dagger should have affected him in some way. She didn't know what was wrong, but she knew it, she could feel it in her bones- 

She winced, her hand instinctively touching her temple as she so often did these days when a headache would form. 

What had she been thinking about? 

She shrugged, standing to get dressed. If it was important, she would remember. 

She found herself chatting with Davrin, in his room. She admired him, and Assan, as she made fun of him for carving his miniature monsters. They had flirted briefly before, but something held her back this time. It was…almost a lingering guilt, from something long since forgotten but still important. If Davrin noticed, he said nothing. Perhaps it was better that they stick to business after all. 

The same thing happened with Emmrich and Lucanis though. They were both charming and attractive in their own right, and she had flirted with both of them. Maybe the dream she forgot was the reason she held back now. She was sure it wouldn't linger, but she had this shadow In the back of her mind that seemed to hold her back for now. 

Not that Lucanis would spare her two minutes anymore. Her choice, made in a split second, and she felt the burden of that choice heavily. If not Treviso, Minrathous. If not Minrathous, Treviso. There hadn't been a correct answer, and Minrathous was the capital of the Tevinter Imperium. She couldn't sit and stew on it, because otherwise it would drive her mad. What was done was done, and at least the Venatori hadn't had a successful coup of the government in Tevinter. 

Not yet anyway.

Neve, at least, was grateful, and she was trying to mend the bridge that had been broken between Lucanis and Rook. Slowly, Rook knew it would take time, if it ever got much better. 

Everything would be fine.

It had to be. Because otherwise the world would look like Treviso and D'Meta's Crossing, and she would do everything she could to prevent that. 

If she had the chance she was going to punch Solas in his stupidly perfect and attractive face for these feelings. She wasn't sure how it was his fault, but she knew he had something to do with it.

Chapter Text

The Hossberg Wetlands were a nightmare. Blood, blight, and darkspawn were everywhere. Rook found Antoine and Evka in a ruined Grey Warden fortress on the edge of the ruins of a village named Lavendel. 

“These people aren't safe here.” Rook said, and Evka nodded in understanding. “We can move them somewhere safe via the eluvians, until this is all over. The longer they stay here, the more likely they are to be exposed to the blight.”

“We'll talk to the villagers.” Antoine said, tinkering with something that looked oddly like a bomb. “This is their home, and they may not want to leave.”

“I think we should strongly encourage them to.” Rook pressed. “If we win, once we win, maybe they can come back and reclaim the land. For now, the longer they stay…”

“I agree.” Evka said, looking at Antoine who only shrugged. “We'll see what we can do. The First Warden is calling everyone back to Weishaupt. Our letter says that a huge darkspawn horde is on the move, with an Archdemon leading it.” Rook felt her stomach drop. So they’ve unleashed a Blight. Awesome.

“Why didn't I get a letter?” Davrin asked indignantly, and Antoine chuckled at him. 

“I do not think that he likes us very much.” Was the reply, “But we will do what we can here, before we go.”

…

Later, back at the Lighthouse, Rook found herself lying in her bed, staring at the ceiling, watching the light ripple beautifully across it from the fish tank. She closed her eyes for just a moment, and when she opened them again, she was standing in the Fade prison.

“How fares your battle?” She jumped; Solas was right next to her. He wasn’t quite looking at her, still standing with his arms behind his back, his eyes narrowed slightly. It was almost as if he hadn’t tried to strangle her last time she had visited, and she was suspicious.

“We’ve heard that the Evanuris are moving against Weisshaupt.” Rook was impressed with her ability to keep her breathing controlled. She caught herself vaguely wondering what Solas looked like shirtless. “There’s a horde apparently being led by an Archdemon.”

“And you have questions.” He turned his head to look at her. His voice was so smooth, and his timbre sent a bolt of heat down her core, especially since he was standing so close. What had happened to the chasm separating them? She found herself wishing they were separated so she wouldn’t be consumed with the rampant desire to either kiss him or punch him. It was getting increasingly difficult to tell the two apart.

“I do. Who was the Shield of the Dread Wolf?” Solas’s lips pressed into a thin line, his brows drawing tighter together as he stiffened at the mention of the name.

“I propose a bargain. I will answer your question, if you answer mine.” He took a step closer to her, and instinctively Rook took a step back. Ever the Fade, she found herself pressed against a wall, and Solas looked down his nose at her.

“Sorry?” she had hoped her voice would come out a bit stronger but her heart was pounding in her chest at his proximity.

“What did you think my help would look like, Rook?” Solas took another step into her space. He was close enough for her to see the intricate details of his clothing, gold plated with dark green interwoven seamlessly. His collar was pronounced, framing the shape of his jaw nicely, and Rook found her eyes drawn to his lips. “I need to know that you are prepared.”

“Fine, ask your question.” Rook sounded far braver then she felt. Solas smirked at her, his eyes darkening ever so slightly.

“How do you know of the Shield?” his voice was low, and she felt herself shudder involuntarily. She opened her mouth to lie, and he quickly cut her off. “Do not try to lie to me. I will know.” She stared at him. How the shit did he know she was going to try to lie? His smirk grew a bit wider. “Your thoughts are louder here.” He didn’t need to say anything else, and she felt her face burn, her whole body go hot as she swallowed nervously. He raised an eyebrow at her expectantly, his lips still turned up in that accursed smirk that did things to her.

“In the memory we saw,” she began, trying to keep the tremor of emotion in her voice calm, “I…became this woman that Ghilan’nain called the Shield of the Dread Wolf.” Solas, to his credit, did not react in any visible way. “You…called me Reva.” Solas’s eye twitched. “And…” Rook flushed at the memory of him kissing her, the way it felt for him to hold her, how good and wonderful it had been, and she found she couldn’t tell Solas that they had stuck their tongues down each other’s throats. She visibly flinched when he brought a gloved hand close to her face, his long index finger sliding under her chin, forcing her to look up at him. His eyes were that luminous purple, and he inclined his head slightly, daring her to continue. She felt her breath catch in her throat, her mouth dry, and she licked her lips quickly out of instinct. Solas’s expression changed then, a longing apparent on his face, his eyes half lidded as he gazed at her with an intensity that would have made even the most devout Chantry sisters blush from the scrutiny.

“And?” he had somehow gotten closer, her breasts almost touching his chest as he kept one hand behind his back, his single finger being the only touch between them, and Rook felt like she might instantaneously combust from the tension in the air.

“We…” Maker and spirits above she was trying to put it into words, and he seemed to know exactly what it was she was trying to say but he seemed to delight in torturing her this way. “Please don’t make me say it.” She muttered halfheartedly, and Solas grinned wickedly at her. To her great relief, he backed away just a bit, his hand leaving her and going back behind his back to join the other one as he chuckled darkly at her.

“I shall leave it alone. For now.” His words were a promise and a threat, and Rook found she was just glad she had a bit of space to breathe again. “The Shield of the Dread Wolf was…” his eyes clouded over, and he looked away. “She was one of my oldest friends. One of my generals in the Rebellion.” Rook was surprised he had answered; his voice was laced with a pain that she recognized, and if she hadn’t known any better, she would have thought it sounded like heartbreak and regret.

“Was?” Solas’s eyes met hers again, the steely countenance back in place.

“I answered your question. Now, what will you do about the Wardens?” Of course he dodged. Typical.

So began their dance of her telling him about the Wardens and how the First Warden was a prick who wouldn’t listen. He asked her how she would get the Wardens on her side. Then, he brought up how the Evanuris had once numbered far more then those whose names had survived in the elven pantheon.

“Have you ever ridden home in a wagon and felt the streets go from paved to dirt beneath the wheels? The horses slow, and everything grows quiet as you near home. What do you call that feeling?” Solas asked, his eyes telling more then his words ever would.

“I…don’t really have a word for it.”

“No, you do not. Elgar’nan destroyed that emotion. He burned it from the mind of every living being. There were spirits of that feeling, just as there are spirits of joy, or fear, or despair. I begged them to fight.”

“What happened to them?” Rook asked, dreading the answer.

“They waited too long. Without the emotion in this world to focus on, they faded until nothing remained.” His gaze was cast down, the sadness palpable in him as he recounted this. He looked back up, his eyes were almost blue. Almost. “When you grow quiet, it is a part of your soul searching for a feeling and finding emptiness, because I failed.”

“Solas…” Rook’s voice broke slightly, but his shoulders were squared, and his eyes snapped back to purple.

“What will you do?” he was pushing her. He told her of a village that Ghilan’nain turned into animals, after he had warned them that she was coming. “I took little solace in knowing that I had tried to warn them.” Rook faltered, still against the wall Solas had pushed her against.

“We have to find a way to get them to listen.” Rook said more to herself then to Solas.

“Then what will you do?” his words were punctuated with meaning, and Rook swallowed nervously.

“Whatever it takes.” She returned his gaze, feeling his emotions mix with hers. The determination to not fail, to truly do whatever it took, it filled her completely, the fire in her chest exploding outwards to the tips of her fingers and toes.

“Easily said.” Solas regarded her coolly. “But it will have to be enough for now.”

Their talk continued, with him telling her about the Archdemons and how to inflict damage upon Ghilan’nain and Elgar’nan.

“You know, it says a lot that ‘killing an Archdemon’ is the easy part of this fight.” Rook said sarcastically, sighing.

“Do not underestimate yourself.” Solas said, and Rook’s eyes met his once more. “I would not suggest this if I did not believe you would succeed.”

“Aw, the god of lies believes in me.” Rook said it before she could stop herself, and Solas’s mouth quirked upwards in a smirk once more.

“You remind me of her.” Rook stared at him blankly. “Of Reva.” Something about how he said that name sent her mind into a downward spiral of debauchery.

“I do?” she wrung her hands together, glancing up at him shyly. Was she Reva reborn?  She felt that she was, but she didn’t want to say or do anything without more evidence, or more memories to ascertain the truth of the situation.

“Your eyes.” Solas said softly, and he had stepped into her space again, his hand coming up to brush some of her hair out of her eyes as he searched hers. “They are the same color hers were.” His voice was low, filled with a longing and regret that seemed to bare his soul to her in a way he hadn’t done before.

“Do…I look like her?” her voice came out as a whisper, and Solas at first said nothing, his eyes searching hers. As the moment stretched, the purple of his eyes faded to a stormy sea blue, and his lips parted slightly.

“Yes.” His voice was strained, quiet, and he dipped his head as if to kiss her and she tilted her head up to meet him-

“Rook! Wake up!” Taash was jumping on her bed, and Rook woke with a start.

“WHAT WHY WHO WHATS HAPPENING-“ Rook’s mind was racing, her blood still pounding as what had almost happened sent a shockwave through her at the implications of her relationship with Solas.

“Come on! Spite took over Lucanis and he’s trying to leave!” Taash jumped off the bed and raced from the room, and Rook groaned, her hand passing over her face.

Find more memories. Solas’s voice echoed in her mind, and her face burned, feelings twisting in her chest.  We have more to talk about.

“Son of a bitch.” Rook muttered, shaking her head. She heard Taash and Harding shout, and she jumped up to race towards them, the feeling of Solas’s hands on her faint and the look in his eyes haunting her.

Chapter Text

“Glad you made it here safely. I didn’t love our odds without you.” Felassan was a welcome sight after many years gone. Reva hopped up on the stone outcropping next to him, smiling. They clasped hands in greeting, their armor glinting in the pale light of dusk.

“Is it just me or does Rook become someone else during these?” Bellara asked Lucanis. The two of them were watching the memory from the ground, where a platoon of various spirits were appearing. Rook didn’t seem in control of herself, so she had to watch from her own mind as Reva spoke with Felassan, something warm spreading through her chest.

“Everything is in place for us to hit Elgar’nan’s island fortress tonight.” Felassan spoke to the assembled spirits, Reva standing beside him, a large shield slung on her back with two swords, one on either side of her hips. “This is our best chance to free the people he’s enslaved. Get in, get as many as you can, and bring them back to the sanctuary.”

“Why does she look like an ancient elf?” Lucanis mused, and Bellara shrugged.

“Be fast, be safe, and I’ll meet you on the other side. Fen’Harel is scouting ahead.” Rook felt her heart leap at Solas’s moniker. “For freedom! For the Dread Wolf!” Felassan raised his sword as he yelled the battle cry, and the spirits erupted in kind, their cheer shaking the very earth. Their visages faded away, and Rook, Lucanis, and Bellara were left to charge through the now open gates in front of them.

“I guess that’s our cue.” Rook mused, and Lucanis and Bellara shared a look but said nothing. Together the three of them ran forward, cutting down all the enemies that came their way. They fought through them and came upon another gate, where Felassan and Solas appeared.

“Glad we all made it!” Solas looked meaningfully at Rook/Reva, and she returned the look with an incline of her head. “Elgar’nan’s forces are making things…interesting.” Felassan stood with his hands on his hips, while Solas stood with his hands behind his back. Always keeping his plays hidden.

“Reva, you go on and free the slaves.” Felassan looked at Rook/Reva, and Bellara and Lucanis both stared at her.

“Who is Reva?” Lucanis asked suspiciously, but Rook wasn’t given an opportunity to answer.

“We’ll take everyone else and give the guards something to think about.” Solas took a step up to Rook/Reva, his eyes searching hers, as though a glance could tell her everything he was thinking. The moment stretched as Reva considered reaching out to him with her hand, but didn’t. Felassan rolled his eyes, groaning.

“Get a room and get it over with already.” Solas and Reva looked at him, startled, but he only wore a cheeky grin. “Seriously, we have things to do.” Felassan turned and faded away, and Rook/Reva looked back at Solas again, her cheeks burning. As always, he was beautiful, regal, a figure to be admired and followed as he fought for the People. She took a step into his space, where he made a barely noticeable sharp intake of breath as she did so.

“Come back in one piece.” She said playfully, and pushed past him, drawing her swords as the gates swung open.

“Be careful!” Solas’s voice called out behind her, “Elgar’nan is coming.” His voice was laced with fear but Rook/Reva didn’t turn back to look at him.

“What. Was. THAT.” Bellara asked excitedly, running to catch up to Rook. “Why have we never heard of this Reva before? What if-“

“We’ll talk about it later.” Rook said quickly, feeling her heart race and really hoping Bellara would not bring it up again (unlikely but one can hope).

“We will definitely be talking about it later.” Lucanis all but growled, but Rook ignored him as they made their way into a keep. There, they fought and killed some more guards, and worked their way into a dungeon. The dungeon was dark, dank, and blood was everywhere. The slaves they were meant to save, about three hundred elves were crammed into a larger prison cell, and when they saw Rook’s group there was a collective gasp of relief from all of them. Rook took her shield and smashed the lock on the door (of course ancient elves wouldn’t think to use brute force, they did everything with magic), and as the elves streamed out of the prison one stopped to talk to her.

“There is an eluvian nearby, we will head to it and flee to the Wolf’s Crossroads. Ma serannas.” The elves faded into nothingness as beings tended to in the memories, and as Rook/Reva turned around they were on the walls of the keep, facing down a storm in the heavens. Felassan and Solas materialized near them, looking slightly unkempt as though they had just been fighting.

“Quickly, Elgar’nan himself approaches.” Solas’s eyes met Rook/Reva’s, and Rook/Reva felt her stomach drop.

“Okay this sudden changing of scenery is making me dizzy.” Bellara announced to no one.

“I will hold off Elgar’nan for as long as I am able.” Solas made a point to not look at Rook/Reva, looking instead at Felassan as the two of them faded into nothingness once more.

Rook and company ran across the bridge that appeared, and soon came to a clearing that looked like a field in the Crossroads. Rook recognized the Cathedral of Thorns in the background.

“There will be a reckoning for this, Solas. No matter how far you run!” Elgar’nan’s voice echoed all around them, his voice nothing like Solas’s. Elgar’nan’s voice was a slightly higher pitch, but there was definitely an undercurrent of something sinister in his voice that Rook did not like.

“Let the big asshole rant. Everyone we’ve freed is safe in the Crossroads.” Felassan, Solas, Rook/Reva, and another elf were standing together, and Felassan was looking at Solas. For once, Solas’s hands were not behind his back, and he was meeting Felassan’s gaze as he spoke.

“Without all of you…” the freed elf was wringing her hands, her eyes going to each of them in turn. “Well, thank you. But can Elgar’nan find us here?”

“He cannot. I have made sure of-“ Solas cut off with a pained hiss, his eyes closing as his brow furrowed. In this memory, he seemed so young in comparison to the Solas Rook was getting to know in the present day. Rook/Reva took a few steps towards him, her fingers grazing his arm, and Solas briefly looked up at her.

“Solas?” Felassan asked worriedly.

“Elgar’nan…is a powerful opponent.” Solas sounded out of breath, and he turned to meet Felassan’s gaze. “My apologies. It is of no consequence.”

“To hell it isn’t.” Rook/Reva muttered, and she felt Solas reach out to her with his magic in a quiet way that simply said ‘later’.

“What matters, my friends, is that today, all of us are free.” Rook/Reva stood next to Solas as the memory ended, at least for Bellara and Lucanis. Felassan and the other elf faded away, and it was just the Rook/Reva and Solas standing there. The scene shifted as Reva turned to Solas, and they were standing in what looked like a room of the Lighthouse. Rook hadn’t been able to get the Lighthouse to reveal all it’s secrets yet, but this looked like Solas’s personal room. There was a large double door thrown wide open to let the natural light (? It’s the Fade how is there natural light) into the room, and they were probably on the highest floor, as there was a balcony just outside the doors. There was a simple, slightly larger than double sized bed on the far side of the room pushed up against the wall, and what took center of the room was a large desk, covered in maps and letters, with several stacks of paperwork around it, a few maps lying on the floor with small tokens laid out strategically on it.

Solas sighed, deeply, collapsing into the chair at the desk, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, his hair falling down around his neck, eyes closed.

“Solas…” Reva had discarded her shield and swords, crossing the room to stand near him.

“Elgar’nan is too powerful.” Solas said quietly, his eyes still closed, and Reva stilled as she drew near him. “This war has dragged on for so long.”

“I do not think there is an end in sight.” Reva said quietly. She came to stand behind Solas, and she contemplated a moment as the silence stretched on.

“You did well today-“ Solas started, but Reva cut him off angrily.

“Like hell I did.” Solas’s posture didn’t change, but he did let loose a long-suffering exhale. “You’re hurt. What kind of Shield am I if you got hurt?”

“You could not have stood with me against Elgar’nan.” Solas’s voice was even, controlled. He lowered his hand, casting a side glance at her from his chair. As always, his eyes caught her in a snare, halting her breath. “It is better that I faced him alone today.”

“You asked me to join your rebellion because you needed me.” Reva couldn’t hide the hurt in her voice, hesitantly putting her hand on Solas’s shoulder. The touch was light, but his presence grounded her in ways she never knew she needed.

“I do need you.” Solas replied, and she gave his shoulder a light squeeze.

“How can I help you if you won’t let me fight at your side?” she whispered, letting her hand fall away, turning from him and holding her arms to hug herself. She heard him stand, the chair scraping slightly against the ground as he moved to his feet. He came to stand behind her, and he seemed to hesitate when he reached out for her. “How will we win?” She felt him reach out for her when there was a sharp knocking on the door to the rest of the Lighthouse. She saw Solas clench his fist, lowering his hand to his side.

“Solas, I have- “

“Can it wait, Felassan?” Solas’s voice was layered with intent, and there was a very long pause before they both heard Felassan chuckle.

“Enjoy your afternoon, Dread Wolf. I’ll make sure you are not disturbed.” And they heard Felassan’s footsteps fade away. Reva was frozen, face flushed from the implications of what both men had just communicated without saying anything at all.

“Solas-“ he hugged her from behind, burying his face in her neck, his breath hot and tickling the fine hairs there, sending shivers through her.

“There is a way.” He murmured, his frame dwarfing hers, the strength in his body palpable with just a touch. “I am afraid of having to resort to it.” Reva let loose a shaky breath, her heart pounding in her ears.

“Will you tell me?” There was a moment of silence.

“Not yet.”

“I can’t help you-“ he kissed her neck, drowning her argument quickly. “If you…if you don’t-“

“Hm?” Solas hummed, his grip around her tightening, and his lips came to the tip of her ear, his hot breath sending a shiver through her once more.

“Solas.” She was trying to have a conversation with him and he was purposefully distracting her.

“I have barely touched you, and you react this way.” He sounded amused, chuckling as his lips went back to her neck. She swallowed, her arms trapped against herself as he held her in place, and she felt his hard length pressing into her butt, making her hot with want. “What am I going to do with you Reva?” his voice was dark, a whisper and a promise -

“ROOK!” Rook was on the ground, spread eagled, and Lucanis and Bellara were both leaning over her looking very concerned.

“Uh…. hi guys.” Rook said, blinking slowly, coming back to reality.

“Welcome back.” Bellara said, looking visibly relieved that she had woken up.

“Yes, welcome back.” Lucanis was a bit more suspicious, eyeing her warily.

“I seem to be…affected by these memories.” Rook said slowly, sitting up, taking Lucanis’ hand as he helped her to stand. “I think…I think I might be Reva.” Lucanis and Bellara stared at her.

“What?” Lucanis’ voice was a whisper, but Bellara’s eyes shone with excitement and curiosity.

“I don’t really know how to explain it.” Rook said, shrugging, and Lucanis swore under his breath while Bellara hopped excitedly.

“But! But! If you are, or were, I mean, then that would mean-“

“Did we get another wolf statuette?” Rook asked, and Lucanis nodded, holding up said statuette. “Good. Let’s go back to the Lighthouse, reconvene, and maybe talk to Emmrich about this potential reincarnation business.”

Chapter Text

“Andaran atish’an. Lasa ghilain. Spirits, Fade-friends, come forth. Enter the circle. Reveal yourselves.” It was cold, snow covered the ground, and it littered the tops of the ruins they stood in. Felassan and Solas stood on a makeshift rock platform, while behind them a blazing inferno raged in the distance. Reva stood on the ground, looking up at the two men. She wasn't one to give speeches, and so opted to remain on the ground. 

Bolts of fire and lightning shot from the sky, and the spirits gathering around them began to number in the thousands.

“Spirits. The Dread Wolf asks for your assistance on a crucial mission.” Felassan shouted, his voice causing the spirits to quieten as their attention was turned to the two armor clad elves.

“The false gods, the Evanuris, have overreached. I shall humble them.” Solas's voice echoed with power and assurance across the multitude of spirits. Solas looked at Reva briefly, his eyes purple. “Within their citadel lies a relic with the power to imprison even a god. With it, I can end their tyranny forever.”

“You are spirits of Chaos, Disorder, and Disruption. We ask you to disrupt the citadel’s defenses. Give us the opening to get that relic. For freedom!” Felassan’s voice echoed loudly, and cheers rose from every direction, and all of them vanished like smoke as the memory altered itself to continue on.

Rook/Reva found herself walking with Solas and Felassan. Bellara and Emmrich must be with the spirits, fighting on. 

“They’ve changed their plans. Elgar’nan may be a tyrant, but he is no fool. That means the relic is genuine. We are close. And Elgar’nan is afraid.” Solas sounded delighted as he trailed off. Felassan and Reva followed behind Solas, the sounds of battle echoing all around them. Solas stopped, turning to look at the two of them, a clever smile on his face.

“Felassan, have the strongest of the spirits be in the vanguard. Rain down hellfire upon them.” Felassan nodded, running off to join the fray, and Rook/Reva caught sight of Emmrich and Bellara running to meet him. She and Solas were alone on the cliff, a great battle being fought around them.

“Solas.” Reva wasn’t quite sure what to say. Mythal had been murdered, and Solas seemed…different from before.

“With the lyrium dagger, we will be able to end this war.” Solas said, evading her tone. Reva’s jaw clenched as he continued talking. “Reva, you will lead the attack on the far wall-”

“I will do no such thing.” Solas’s eyes flashed with anger, his body going still as the two of them stared each other down. The air was crackling around them and it was not from the nearby fires.

“Why-“

“Because I know I am just a distraction, Solas.” Reva spat out angrily, bristling at how he had essentially just tried to order her to go die for him. Solas said nothing, his lips being pushed into a thin line, his brow furrowed as he regarded her. “You forget that I helped you with this plan. But you wish for me to grind myself to a pulp in a hopeless battle?”

“It is necessary-”

“Necessary for what?” Reva challenged. “You have not been yourself since…since-“

“Say it.” Solas dared, his eyes narrowing. Reva stood tall, and unslung the shield from her back, holding it out in front of her. The shield had been fashioned to look like the six eyed wolf that Solas could turn into, and its golden gaze glared back at her, mocking.

“You have not been yourself since Mythal was murdered.”

“I told her that the Evanuris were using the blight. I am responsible for her death, as much as they are!” Solas’s voice grew louder, and magic bristled from him in shock waves, hitting Reva with a force that nearly winded her. She stood firm though, looking back down at the shield that she had come to be known by. Solas’s rage was growing; she could see it in how his eyes flickered from purple to glowing completely.

His eyes used to be blue.

“I cannot help you anymore.” Reva’s voice broke, feeling something inside of her break as she made eye contact with Solas. “I cannot keep pretending you love me.” Tears began to form, and she felt them slip down her cheeks as she met Solas’s gaze with equal intensity. Solas’s magic sparked, surprised at her words.

“What?” his magic dissipated, and in three strides he stood in front of her. She had to look up at him now, feeling her heart break.

“Do not act surprised.” Her voice was surprisingly steady, even as every bit of her broke inside. “I have known you since the beginning. You cannot lie to me.” She couldn’t help smiling at that, and Solas’s mouth opened and closed again, no sound coming out. “You will always have my heart.” She whispered, and Solas reached out to touch her but she shrank away as if burned. Solas’s hand stopped just short of her, uncertain.

“I never meant for you to feel that way.” His voice was low, laced with pain. “Do not say that I do not love you.” his voice broke, and Reva searched his eyes, hoping, praying to an unknown god or higher power that maybe, maybe he did love her back.

“It is the truth though, isn’t it?” she pushed, and he shook his head fervently.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan. I cannot do this without you.” He tried to reach for her again, and she shrank back once more. Solas at least looked upset, and she felt his magic push against her, the stabs of despair hitting her like bee stings.

“And yet,” she felt her anger rising again, “You would send me to the front where the fighting is fiercest.”

“Are you not the Shield of the Dread Wolf?” Solas’s voice matched hers in anger, his eyes flashing dangerously. “Have you not begged to fight at my side?”

“Yes! At your side!” Reva yelled, and Solas’s jaw clenched, his eyes darkening once more. “You have told yourself so many lies that you yourself cannot tell what is true anymore.” This time, her magic lashed out, raw, powerful, primal, and barely used, and Solas hissed in pain, taking a step back, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, his brows drawn as they glared at each other. Reva’s face was cold from her tears, the howling wind around them swirling snow mercilessly.

“Is that what you think of me?” the look on his face was incredulous, as if he couldn’t believe she was doing this. That she was rejecting him.

“No. It is what I know of you.” Reva looked down at her shield once more. She looked back up at Solas, and dropped it, letting it hit the ground with a soft thud in the snow. “You have become your name. When you are Wisdom, perhaps we might find each other again.” She turned on her heel, and began walking away.

“Reva!” Solas’s voice was loud, desperate even; but he did not follow, and she did not look back.

-----

“Disruption fought to the last, and it was all for nothing. We couldn’t take the citadel.” Felassan was speaking to Solas as they stood amidst the wooden corpses of the spirits. Rook had rejoined Emmrich and Bellara, and she was still feeling the absolute crushing of her heart at the scene she had been a witness/a part of with Solas and Reva. Did they just break up? Is that how that works? She couldn’t tell, all she knew was that her chest was physically hurting as if a gaping wound was there, and it hurt more every time she looked at Solas.

“It was not for nothing, my friend. The distraction the spirits gave allowed our agents to retrieve the dagger.” Solas seemed distant; distracted.

“Rook? Is everything okay?” Bellara asked gently, and Rook looked at her dubiously.

“Later.” She muttered, returning her attention to the scene. Felassan seemed taken aback at what Solas had said.

“Distraction?” Felassan sounded surprised; outraged.

“No force could have breached their citadel. But it was necessary for the enemy to believe we were committed. A heavy sacrifice, but one that gave us a real chance to end the war.” Solas looked at his friend, his smile not reaching his eyes, as if he was trying to convince himself of this as well.

“Solas. You knowingly sent all those spirits to their deaths?” Solas’s face hardened as Felassan spoke, his eyes darkening. “We are supposed to be better than that!”

“They died true to their nature, doing what they loved, Felassan.” Solas walked off a bit, eyes on a distant horizon no one but he saw. He stopped, turning to look at Felassan, his hands behind his back. Rook could not help but find him beautiful, despite what had transpired. “Let that be a comfort, that this war did not corrupt them into something different from what they were supposed to be.”

“Where is Reva?” Felassan asked suddenly, as if just now realizing she wasn’t there. Solas looked away, saying nothing. “Solas. What did you do?” Felassan sounded furious, but Solas continued to stare off into the distance, as if standing there stoically would make the pain go away.

“She has left.” He said simply, his voice not betraying any emotion, but his answer seemed to have stunned Felassan.

“I will ask this again.” Felassan glared at Solas. “What did you do?” and Solas turned. It looked like they were about to argue, but the memory faded, spitting the group out next to another wolf statuette.

“Rook?” Bellara asked, and Emmrich picked up what she was putting down immediately. Rook stared at the wolf statue, still trying to sort through the rush of emotions she was feeling.

“My dear, I know we said there was no way to know for sure,” Emmrich began, walking over to her and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder, “But judging from what we just saw and experienced, I would have to say that your theory that you are this Reva reborn is most likely correct.”

“So what happened? Emmrich and I didn’t see Reva at all after the first part.” Bellara asked, wringing her hands nervously. Rook looked at her friends, the feelings of betrayal and heartbreak fading slightly.

“Basically they had a fight where Reva called him out on his shit, he got mad, and she walked away.” Rook said, summarizing the events, and Bellara actually giggled.

“That sounds just like you Rook.” She said, smiling, and Rook looked at her.

Holy shit.

It did.

“So this Shield of the Dread Wolf just…left? In the middle of this battle?” Emmrich asked, intrigued, and Rook nodded, grabbing the wolf statue and shoving it into her bag.

“I feel the pain.” Rook said quietly, looking at her friends. “It’s sharp, and it hurts, but its…faded almost, like I’ve had the pain for a long time now.” Emmrich and Bellara looked at each other.

“You were found in the Necropolis as a baby, weren’t you?” Emmrich asked, one eyebrow raised slightly, and Rook stared at him.

“Yes…?”

“I see.” Emmrich seemed to think on this fact for a moment.

“You were found as a baby?? In the NECROPOLIS???” Bellara’s voice got high pitched there at the end, the way her voice did when she was excited about something and couldn’t contain it.

“The mystery deepens.” Emmrich said thoughtfully, rescuing Rook from having to answer Bellara. “But, this place seems to be giving you some less than good feelings, so let us return to the Lighthouse to brainstorm and discuss what we’ve discovered.” Emmrich didn’t leave room for debate, and with long purposeful strides he began heading in the direction of the Crossroads dock nearest to them. Bellara followed quickly, and Rook stood there for a moment, taking in the scene around her.

There was a small shrine that had evaded their notice right by the gate, and Rook took a moment to look at it.

There was a shield engraved on it, and the shield had the image of the six eyed wolf on it. Underneath the shield, it read “For Reva.”

Chapter Text

“Felassan, how is he?” Reva asked quietly, staring vacantly off into the distance. Felassan sighed, shaking his head. 

“He does nothing but work now.” Felassan said quietly. “No music, no painting. You gave him passion; you are his passion, lethallin. He is not the same without you.” Reva's heart broke a little more. She couldn't remember the last time she ate. She sat curled up on her small bed in her seaside cottage, the one where Solas had come to her centuries ago. Felassan would come visit her; if Solas knew, he didn't say. 

“If I am his passion, why will he not come?” She whispered, looking at her friend. Felassan looked at her, his understanding written all over his face. 

“He must finish what he started.” He said, sighing, running a hand through his hair. “You know how he is.” Reva scoffed, the windchimes in her windows tinkling quietly. There were no spirits that came to visit her now. She wished to be alone, and so she was alone, except of course for her very stubborn friend. 

“I do know how he is.” She said, a bitter, small smile on her lips. She met Felassan's eyes. “When he is ready to make his final move, please let me know. I know I left, but…” she looked away once more. “I cannot bear the thought of him facing them alone.” She finished in a whisper, and for a moment Felassan said nothing. 

“How do you know he'll go by himself?” Felassan asked, his interest piqued. She snorted lightly, the sound of the waves crashing against the cliffs below distant. 

“I know him,” She said, “and his need to be a martyr, to be the hero, will make him go by himself.” Felassan actually laughed out loud, and she looked at him.

“He does feel the need to be dramatic.” He said, grinning. “Grim, fatalistic, and dramatic.”

“That's why we love him.” Reva said quietly, allowing herself to smile with Felassan. 

-.-.-

Rook woke from her dream slowly. Or her memory. The two were becoming increasingly intertwined and it was harder to separate Rook from Reva and Reva from Rook. 

She got out of bed, got dressed, and mechanically went through her morning. They were all but ready to go to Weisshaupt, and Rook was dreading it, almost as much as she dreaded seeing Solas in her dreams. Not that he came to visit the last few nights, but the potential was always there.

The Lighthouse murals had all been restored. Rook was staring at the one where Solas sealed the Evanuris, her eyes slowly going from one figure to the next. This mural seemed to stand out to her the most, but she couldn't quite figure out why. It was like an itch she couldn't get to go away, and she kept replaying the images in her mind, the anguished cry of Solas as the ritual went wrong ringing in her ears.

“You have been staring at it for days now.” Emmrich's voice came from his door, and she turned to look at him briefly. He was smiling at her, and began to walk over to join her. 

“I can't help but feel like I'm missing something.” She admitted, turning her gaze back to the murals. “I don't know what it is but I can't seem to put it from my mind.” Emmrich hummed in understanding, coming to stand next to her.

“Are you sure you don't want to tell the others?” He asked seriously, and Rook frowned slightly. He was referring to his, Bellara’s, and her deduction that she was, in fact, Reva reborn, and Rook had decided to not mention it yet. 

“Yes. I'm honestly a little worried about how they'd react.” She said quietly. 

“They should be fine with it. You're still you.” Emmrich said kindly, and Rook smiled at him. 

“Thank you. It's…hard to wrap my head around.” She said, “It's like…like I didn't even know a part of me was missing until I found it again, if that makes any sense.” Emmrich inclined his head slightly, not saying anything. “And I only remember bits and pieces. If Reva-er, if I lived for thousands of years, just as long as Solas, I feel like I might remember more than a couple weeks worth of stuff. Kind of sad, huh?” Emmrich said nothing, pursing his lips as he thought it over.

“It's a bit sad, in that, imagine what you could have told us about Elvhenan.” He gave her a wry smile. “So I suppose we shall have to continue to rely on Solas for information.”

“I suppose.” She hummed in agreement, a disquieting feeling growing in her stomach. 

“Rook, I feel like I should point something out.” Emmrich said, and Rook looked at him. “These memories we saw of Solas’s. They were his regrets.”

“Your point?”

“His regrets, my dear.” Emmrich said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “He regrets what happened with Reva.” Rook felt herself stiffening slightly.

“There's no way to know for sure.” She muttered, hugging herself.

“You could always ask him.” Rook scoffed.

“Yeah, as if the god of lies and treachery  is going to tell me the truth.” 

“Rook, I have lived much longer than our friends, and I know a broken heart when I see one.” She looked up at him, a knowing, understanding smile on his face. She bit her lip to keep herself from frowning too hard. "Asking might not reveal any answers, but at least you tried." 

“How can I have a broken heart when I don't even remember it?” She asked, her voice cracking slightly.

“Your mind might not remember, but your spirit does.” he said softly. “How wondrous for a spirit of Passion to be reborn.” He marveled, “I find it fitting that you were found as a baby in the Necropolis, almost as if the spirits recognized you as one of their own.” 

“You think so?” Rook's voice was much meeker than she had hoped it to be. Emmrich smiled warmly at her.

“I think so.” 

“Rook!” Harding's voice rang out from below them, and her and Emmrich looked over the ledge to see Harding walking up from the eluvian chamber. “Morrigan wants to meet with you, in the Crossroads.” 

“In the…” Rook trailed off, confused. “Why?” 

“She didn't say. Or wouldn't.” Harding shrugged. 

“Alright, let's go then.” Rook said, not particularly feeling up to this conversation at the moment. “Emmrich, Harding, mind coming along?”

“Not at all.” Emmrich said, and Harding nodded.

“Let's go.” 

……

Emmrich and Harding stood off a bit to give Morrigan and Rook some room, at Morrigan's request. The witch eyed Rook carefully, examining her. 

“So.”Rook's blue grey eyes met Morrigan's hawk yellow ones. “Do you remember, Reva?” Rook stared at her.

“I…what?” Morrigan smirked, one hand on her hip.

“My mother was Flemeth, a host of Mythal’s fractured spirit.” Rook blinked, the wheels in her mind turning as she took in what Morrigan was saying.

“Ar-melana dirthavaren, revas vir-anaris.” Rook said instinctively. Morrigan smiled knowingly, and Rook blinked. “Um. What.” 

“That was the phrase used by Fen'Harel's agents, to ensure that only those in the rebellion could communicate with each other lest they be betrayed.” Morrigan said matter-of-factly. “You don't even remember what it means, do you?” 

“Uh. No. Morrigan, I am confused. Help me out here.” Rook said, her head pounding. Why did she always get headaches these days? 

“At any rate, there is another fragment of Mythal that you might be able to convince to help you. In a battle such as ours, we need all the help we can get.” Morrigan's hand glowed blue with magic, and as she flourished her hand, the blighted vines over a nearby archway disappeared, burning away to reveal another path. “Unlike the fragment I carry, which has lived for centuries among mortals and has grown more patient, the Mythal fragment that lies in the Nest of the Ancients is a fragment of Mythal the goddess.”

“They are not. Gods. ” Rook surprised herself by speaking up so suddenly, and if Morrigan was surprised she hid it well. 

“Maybe not, but she considers herself as such.” Morrigan warned. “You could try to talk her into helping you, or you might have to fight her. I would try talking, first.”

“Morrigan.” Rook began, “Would this other Mythal fragment recognize…me?” Morrigan considered her for a moment. 

“Probably.” She finally answered. “For whatever it is worth…I am sorry, Reva.” Rook felt the tears before she knew she was crying. Her emotions spilled over without any thought. “What was done…what Mythal asked of Solas…it was wrong of her to take advantage of him.” Rook wiped away her tears furiously, the wellspring of emotions rushing through her trying to find an outlet with her tears. 

“Damn it, sorry, didn't mean to start crying, it just kind of happened-” Rook sniffled, and Morrigan smiled kindly at her. 

“I cannot even imagine how you have suffered, all this time.” She said gently. “But for now, go and see what you can get out of my errant sister.” 

“Do…we have to go now?” Rook asked nervously. “I feel like I might throw up.” Morrigan laughed, the sound filling the area. 

“I do not think you need to go right this moment,” Morrigan's eyes twinkled with amusement, “Yet I would try to do so sooner rather than later.”

Chapter Text

“Varric…” she said quietly, trying to not wake him. Rook was sitting next to Varric in the Lighthouse, where he slept peacefully. “I don’t know if I can do this without you.” Varric had, in such a short amount of time, become the father she had never had. The dwarf was charismatic, charming, rugged, and somehow managed to get along with everyone. He had a heart of gold that was rare, and the first night she had met him she found herself spilling her entire story to him. She couldn't help but remember when she first met Varric. It had been a situation where she had been drunk and had somehow fought an entire bar in Val Royeaux. 

“Damn kid,” he had said, laughing as she had taken out the entire room of mercenaries, “Remind me to never get on your bad side.” 

“Is your friend alright?” She had asked, wiping some blood from her mouth, looking at the red headed dwarf she came to know as Harding. Varric had laughed, a full hearted, warm laugh that filled her heart. 

“If you hadn't stepped in, we would have beaten them up just as badly.” He replied, his eyes twinkling. “I'd say let us buy you a drink, but everyone here is out cold, and you could probably use some sobering up.”

 “You might be right.” 

A short while later, Rook, then simply known as Ingellvar, found herself sitting with the two dwarves in another inn. They were at a table in a room Varric was renting out, and Ingellvar had spilled her guts to him. 

“Mourn Watch, huh?” he asked, handing her another glass of water. She hummed quietly, taking it, drinking half of it in one gulp.

“Yep.” she said, eyes cast down, one hand holding a cloth to the side of her head where someone had nearly cut her ear off. The bleeding had stopped, but Varric had insisted she keep it there. “They told me to ‘discover more of the world’. It’s what I get for averting a war I suppose.” She laughed bitterly, her eyes meeting Varric’s, expecting some kind of rebuke or insult, but he surprised her yet again by offering her only a kind look in his eyes with a knowing smile on his face. 

“You know, you strike me as someone who will do whatever it takes to do the right thing.” he said, leaning forward slightly with a conspiratorial grin. She shrugged. 

“If not me, then who will?” she said seriously. “People can preach about doing right and wrong all day but if your actions don’t match then what does it matter? No matter your beliefs, wrong is wrong and right is right. Certain things we, as people, all understand to be right and wrong. Like kicking a dog or killing someone, both are wrong. Standing up for others, that’s right.” she had long held this belief, and maybe it had something to do with the pure spirits she had grown up around in the Grand Necropolis. Varric was watching her intently as she spoke. “I saw someone in trouble, and I didn’t see anyone else stepping in, so I did.” 

“You would like the Inquisitor.” Harding mused from Varric’s side. She was sitting next to him, fixing up her bow. Varric elbowed her forcefully, making her laugh. “What? You’re about to ask her if she’d like to join us, right?” 

“We’ve been working together too long.” he muttered, though he was grinning at her. He turned his gaze back to Ingellvar. “So kid. How do you feel about helping us hunt down an elven god?” Ingellvar considered Varric’s words carefully.

“You’re shitting me.”

“I promise you, we are not.” Varric said with a long suffering, very defeated parental sigh, as if this ‘elven god’ was a rampant toddler of his that he was trying to corral.

“I am intrigued.” She said after a moment of contemplation. “What’s the catch? You mentioned the Inquisitor?” Ingellvar leaned forward slightly, taking another sip of her water. “I thought the Inquisition was another arm of the Chantry now.”

“Officially, yes.” Varric said, rolling his eyes. “Back in the day, Harding and I were a part of it.”

“Still a part of it.” Harding corrected him.

“Well, I traveled with the Inquisitor quite a bit, you see. Was there the first time she closed one of those awful rifts.” Varric said, as if he was commenting about something as mundane as the weather. Ingellvar, however, was wide eyed, suddenly very interested in where this was going.

“What was it like?!” she asked excitedly, and Varric and Harding looked at her in surprise. “Being that close to the Fade?! All those spirits? I bet it was extraordinary!” The two dwarves exchanged a look.

“I can tell you later.” Varric said dismissively, “Our focus is currently another of our companions from those days. His name is Solas.” Something pricked in the back of Ingellvar’s mind at the name.

“Solas…” she said quietly, her brows furrowing. Why did that name sound so…familiar? When she knew she had never heard it before?

“Very long story cut very short, Solas is Fen’Harel and he plans on tearing down the Veil, flooding the world with raw magic and demons, and restoring the world of the ancient elves.” Varric said. “Harding and I have been chasing him for…what, five, six years?” he looked at Harding for confirmation.

“Seven, actually.” Harding replied dryly. “We have been chasing him for seven years.”

“Time flies when you’re having fun.” Varric joked, and Ingellvar snorted.

“So let me get this straight.” She said, taking away the cloth from her head to look Varric in the eyes, “You want my help, someone you’ve never met before tonight, to go chase down an elven god? Not just any god, Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf? Who happens to be a friend of yours? And you’re chasing him because if you don’t he’ll destroy the world trying to restore something that’s been lost forever?”

“Pretty much.” Varric said, shrugging.

“You’re serious.” Ingellvar said in disbelief.

“Deadly.” For a moment, no one said anything, and Harding’s gaze flitted between Varric and Ingellvar.

That's how she had started tracking Solas with Varric. Pure luck or coincidence or fate, they happened to be in the right place at the right time and he had offered her a job. Over the last year, she had grown to love the old dwarf, and his current state worried her greatly. As she sat there ruminating, Varric stirred slowly, sitting up on his bed. 

“Rook? What are you doing in here, kid?” He asked groggily, and she smiled at him. She had discovered he had nicknames for everyone, including Solas, who he called Chuckles. Probably because the man never laughed. Irony, at its finest. He called her Rook, because, as he said, she had a tendency to ‘move in straight lines’. 

“I was checking on you.” She said gently as he sat up with some effort. The poor man had a huge bandage still around his chest from where Solas had stabbed him, and his leg was still in a brace. “I'm worried that you're not getting better.”

“Eh, I'll be alright.” Varric said dismissively. “I've had worse, trust me. I fought a darkspawn Magister with the Inquisitor, remember?” He said with a wry smile, and Rook snorted in laughter.

“Yeah but that was what, ten years ago?” She said teasingly. Varric groaned.

“Great, now I feel old. Thanks.”

“But you are old.”

“Respect your elders.” 

“Yeah yeah,” she said, laughing. “So actually, I wanted to talk to you.” 

“I figured. What's on your mind?” 

“I…” Rook hesitated, and she wasn't sure why. “I'm scared.” She said quietly, her eyes meeting Varric’s briefly. 

“I mean, you're fighting two ancient elven mages who claim to be gods and can manipulate the most horribly evil thing in the world with ease.” Varric replied, “I'd be scared too.” 

“It's not just that.” Rook said, running a hand through her ponytail nervously. “Its… Its these memories of mine, of me and Solas.” 

“You and Solas?” Varric asked, one eyebrow raising up in a question. Rook wrung her hands. 

“Yeah. In these memories or visions i keep having, he calls me Reva.” Varric watched her with an unusual alertness as she spoke. “Not just him. His general, Felassan, calls me that too. I'm referred to as ‘the Shield of the Dread Wolf’, and I'm 99% sure he and I-er, Reva, were lovers and-”

“Woah hold on.” Varric held a hand up as Rook had started to ramble, and she stopped, blinking. “Let me get this straight. You're remembering a life with Solas, from ancient times?”

“More or less.” Rook said sheepishly. “Bellara and Emmrich seem to think I'm Reva reincarnated, and…” She took a shaky breath. “I Think I am too. I think I'm Reva, I mean.” Varric didn't say anything. “I mean, Solas almost had a conniption fit when I mentioned the Shield Of the Dread Wolf. And Bellara can't find anything referencing that anywhere and she's never heard it before so how would I know something about Solas no one else knows if this wasn't the case?” She rambled, and Varric looked thoughtful as she did so.

“Maybe we didn't meet by accident then.” He said, meeting her eyes again. “Rook, when I put this team together, what did I look for? A scout to get the lay of the land, and a detective who could track Solas down.” Rook stilled. “I brought you on because even on his best day, Solas would never see you coming. You're unpredictable, you do the right thing, and you get the job done.” He smiled at her. “And it looks like I was more right than I thought I was.” 

“You're… okay with me being Reva?” She asked quietly, and Varric scoffed.

“Reva, Ingellvar; you're Rook to me.” He said with a grin. “You're still you. You haven't changed right?”

“Um. No?” Rook said, “I don't think so.”

“Well there you go.” Varric Said smugly. 

“Should I try asking Solas about it?” She asked quietly. Varric drummed his fingers against his thigh, thinking about it. 

“What's the last thing you ‘remember'?” He asked after a moment, and she told him.

“Felassan- one of Solas’s generals, he had come to see me in my home by the sea.” She said quietly. Varric's eyes darkened ever so slightly, but it could have been the darkness of the room. She continued. “I asked him how Solas was. I asked if he would tell me when he planned to move against…them. I'm assuming I meant the Evanuris. It was after I-Reva dropped her shield in front of him, calling him out on his shit.” Varric hummed thoughtfully.  

“You could try asking him.” Varric said slowly, “But I'm not sure what he'll say or do. Chuckles is so set in his ways that it might not matter.” Seeing the look on Rook's face he added hastily ,”but it never hurts to ask.” Rook smiled weakly. 

“Thank you, Varric.” She said quietly. “For being here for me.” Varric smiled back at her, a warm look in his eyes.

“Of course, kid.” He said. “I'm here if you need me. For now though, I think I've done enough talking.” He yawned, laying back down on his side. “I'm going back to sleep.” Rook laughed, getting up, patting him gently on the shoulder as she did so.

“Get some rest, old man.” 

“Shut up and go talk to the egg.” He muttered, sounding amused as he closed his eyes. Rook left the room, feeling a bit lighter then she had in weeks. She paused though, as the door to the infirmary shut behind her.

“He just called Solas…an egg.” 

Chapter Text

“The fall of Weisshaupt reverberated across the Fade, as did the fall of an Archdemon. But unless I am mistaken, both Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain yet stand.” Rook found herself back in the Fade prison, on her side of the chasm separating her and Solas. Absolutely no one had the right to look as good as he did right now, standing there, with his arms behind his back as he appraised her. And yet…

Weisshaupt.

Weisshaupt had gone…as badly as anything could have possibly gone. The Grey Warden fortress that had stood for over a thousand years, since the time of the First Blight, had crumbled under Ghilan’nain’s attacks.

“We did our best.” Rook said softly, trying to not maintain eye contact, afraid if she did, she would see his look of disappointment or disapproval. “It wasn’t enough.” There was a moment of silence as she felt rather than saw Solas’s disapproval.

“And how are you doing?” At that Rook’s eyes shot up to meet Solas’s. He actually sounded concerned. The Fade prison’s colors were gray and muted, but she could almost see the purple of his eyes at this distance, boring into her.

His eyes used to be blue . The thought came unbidden, and she tried to ignore it.

“I propose a bargain.” She said, mimicking his words from before back at him, “I will answer one of your questions, if you will answer one of mine.” Solas chuckled darkly, the sound doing something to her that she didn’t want to admit.

“Very well.” His eyes glinted dangerously at her across the chasm. “I asked first. How are you doing?”

“That’s the question you want to ask?”

“I am asking politely.”

“But why? ” she asked, “Why do you care how I’m doing?”

“This might be hard for you to understand Rook,” Solas began, sounding just a bit condescending, “But I am invested in making sure you are successful in your endeavors.” Rook scoffed. Of course. “Have any of your companions asked how you are holding up?” Rook opened her mouth to defend them when she realized that the answer was no. She snapped her mouth shut so quickly her teeth clicked, and Solas looked irresistibly smug about it.

“How did you know they hadn’t?” she asked quietly, and Solas’s smirk grew.

“I didn’t. Your reaction told me all I needed to know.” His voice - his voice- was going to undo her. She felt her face grow hot. She scoffed, folding her arms across her chest.

“Honestly, what happened at Weisshaupt has hit me pretty hard.” She deflected, unwilling to admit to him how she truly felt. Yes, it had hit her hard, but it had almost wrecked her totally, body and soul. Killing an Archdemon is no small feat, and Ghilan’nain revived hers three times before it finally died. And it had spawned an additional head each time. Fighting through the darkspawn there, it was as if her nightmares had had evil nightmare babies and those babies had quadrupled into even worse nightmares. The ancient stones had been bent and broken, the blight coils breaking and twisting through everything, the black and red blood of the Blight infecting anything it touched. Her group had deemed it necessary to burn all of their clothes afterwards, being so blight stained there wasn’t much else to be done. They could toss the weapons in salt water and boil it, cleaning them, but the clothes? Sometimes you could get the stuff off, but not always. Rook could still smell the blood.

Her body still ached from the amount of fighting they had done the day before, cuts and bruises healing slowly after having been treated magically by Emmrich. So many Grey Wardens had died. The Order had all but been wiped out, save for the group in the South that the Inquisitor had rallied in the recent weeks.

“You saw Treviso blighted. What makes Weisshaupt harder to bear?” Solas’s voice cut through the thickness of the air, and Rook’s brow furrowed.

“This time, I was the one leading.” She replied, looking down for a moment. “The Grey Wardens listened to my plan. My team followed orders. Everyone was depending on me. But we couldn’t kill Ghilan’nain. Weisshaupt fell anyway.” She met Solas’s gaze again. “So many good people, dead, because my plan didn’t work.”

“Rook.” His voice carried a confidence that stirred something in her. “I led a rebellion against Elgar’nan for hundreds of your lifetimes. I have been where you now stand.” Solas’s brows were drawn, hands still clasped behind his back. Did that not hurt his shoulders? She knew if she tried to stand that way for long periods of time it started to get uncomfortable- 

 “Do you know how many times I had to order my rebels to retreat when we were outmatched in raw power? You rendered Ghilan’nain mortal and escaped with your lives. The sting of wishing you had done more will push you to improve, but Weisshaupt was a victory .”  Solas said with a proud smile. Was he proud of her? Or of his manipulation of her? “And your team will see your passion, even if you must conceal the extent of your own pain.” He turned, walking away, his voice still clear as ever though. “How are your companions, after everything?”

“They’ve spent a lot of time yelling at each other…or me.”

“Not the worst outcome, all things considered.” He said, turning back to face her, a small smile gracing his lips. “Properly focused, that anger can forge your team into a weapon keen enough to cut through any obstacle. You cannot stand against Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain with logic. Those motivated by greed or self-interest will change alliances. But those who serve you with passion and loyalty will follow wherever you lead…even to their deaths, if necessary.” Solas's gaze seemed to be cutting right through her, and Rook shifted uncomfortably. What was he thinking of? Rook’s mind immediately went to the spirits who had thrown themselves against Elgar’nan’s fortress, who had ended up destroyed in the memory they had seen. She stuck her tongue in her cheek, wondering if she should mention it. 

“I knew I might have to make a call like that when Varric put me in charge.” She said carefully, trying to get a measure of him. Solas had a distant look in his eyes as he continued.

“A good leader never makes such a decision lightly, but when the time comes, it is better to be prepared. And perhaps it will not come to that. The stronger your team, the more chances you will have to avoid such a decision.” Rook eyed him warily. What was the old wolf planning?

“I’ll keep that in mind. Do you have any suggestions on our next move against the Evanuris?”

“If you oppose Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, you will get your opportunity.” Solas said confidently. Rook raised an eyebrow in question at him.

“You think attacking the Antaam or Venatori will help us find them?”

“Possibly. But more importantly, you will aggravate them.” He smiled coldly, a look in his eye that spoke of mischief or glee, she couldn’t be certain. “You rendered Ghilan’nain mortal at Weisshaupt. It is an embarrassment, an insult , neither she nor Elgar’nan can ignore. If you continue to disrupt their plans, you will not need to track them down. They will come to you.”

“You think I can goad the Evanuris into making a mistake?”

“I have absolute faith in your ability to aggravate enemies who should know better than to underestimate you.” Solas’s mouth was turned upwards into a mischievous, self-deprecating smirk. Rook snorted.

“Is that a compliment?” she asked lightly, and Solas scoffed. “Definitely sounds like a compliment.”

“Believe what you will.”

“Oh, I will.”

“One final warning: you have survived a confrontation with Ghilan’nain, which few still live to claim. But her power pales in comparison to Elgar’nan’s. If he takes the field himself, remember, in a fight such as ours, escaping to fight another day is a victory.” Solas raised his hand to end their conversation, to send her back to consciousness, but she reached out suddenly.

“Wait!” she shouted, startling Solas into stopping. “I didn’t get to ask you a question.” Solas lowered his hand, placing it behind his back once more.

“Ask your question.” His voice was resolute, cold, indifferent.

“I want to talk about Reva.” She said, sounding way more confident then she felt. Solas, to his credit, did not blink or flinch.

“That is not a question.” He said after a moment, and Rook pursed her lips at him.

“ May we talk about Reva?” she asked through gritted teeth, and Solas smirked at her. 

“No.” Rook gaped at him.

“ What?” She asked in disbelief. “That wasn't what we agreed on!”

“I answered your question, did I not?” She stood there fuming. The cheeky nerve of this-

“Rook…I need to apologize to you.” Solas said quietly, and she paused her internal fuming to look at him in confusion. “Your uncanny resemblance to the woman I knew as Reva has been the cause for my…” He paused, considering his words. “My lack of decorum in our interactions. I apologize.” Rook couldn't believe what she was hearing. 

“I'm sorry, so you've been flirting and toying with me because I looked like a lost love of yours?” Rook couldn't help the fury igniting within her. Solas gave a great, world weary sigh as he leveled his gaze at her. 

“Now here is a thought.” His voice changed tones dramatically, as he started to walk towards her, stones appearing beneath his feet as he closed the distance between them. “How did you know she was my love?” It was as if the prison was being compressed, the air crackling with a dangerous magic that made the hair on Rook's neck stand on end. She suddenly felt very exposed, and she found herself unable to move from where she stood. 

“Well, the almost kissing didn't help hide the fact.” Rook said sarcastically. 

“You said you remembered .” Solas's voice was low, and he walked towards her as if to stop in front of her, but then he turned to circle her, keeping her eyes locked with his, and she shivered. The look in his eyes was predatory, the purple almost glowing, sharpening his features. “So tell me what you remember, Reva , and we can see where that leads us.” Rook inhaled sharply, and then Solas was behind her, his breath hot on her ear, his body a solid presence behind her as his hands settled gently on either side of her shoulders, effectively trapping her against him. 

“I-” she swallowed hard, unable to focus as his touch sent electric sparks running through her, and Solas’s chuckle sent heat straight between her legs as her body reacted to his proximity. 

“I have barely touched you, and you are reacting this way.” His voice was low, playful, and dangerous. Rook couldn't help shivering involuntarily. He was doing this on purpose-

“The last thing I remember-” she felt his lips graze her ear and she had to bite back a gasp, his grip on her arms tightening to hold her in place. “-is asking Felassan to t-tell me when you made your move.” She gasped out, and Solas hummed in approval. 

“So you do not remember enough yet.” He murmured, a sorrowful note resonating deep within his voice. Rook's heart skipped a beat, her stomach turning over itself with butterflies at their proximity.

“What do you mean, enough?” She asked, her curiosity overcoming her lust in that moment. She might have to take Taash up on their offer to go to Minrathous and find a brothel at this point because this was getting ridiculous. She felt his magic press against her, his emotions mixing with her own. The passions of a thousand lifetimes filled her, making her gasp as the sensation threatened to break her mind. Solas, however, held her firmly yet gently, his chest solid and warm against her back as the emotions raced through her mind. She didn't see images, but she felt the pull of a connection, one that went far deeper than the tenuous blood connection Solas had created when this had started. The link felt tied to her heart, encapsulating her very self, and with a startling jerk she realized it was the bond that Reva-no, that she shared with Solas. 

“Your spirit is the same and yet different.” He said quietly, and she couldn't help but lean back against him as he spoke, feeling utterly helpless in his arms and being absolutely okay with it. “It is no wonder that Varric found you.” He took a shaky breath, “It is my sorrow that kept me from recognizing you.” For a moment neither of them said anything. Rook turned, Solas’s grip on her shoulders relaxing enough so she could, and she was face to face with him. At that moment, she thought him beautiful beyond words. Tentatively, she reached up to cup his cheek, and he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes, almost as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders as he did so. 

“Reva and I are one and the same.” Rook's voice came out as a whisper, and Solas’s eyes opened slowly to meet hers. “I do not remember everything, but I-” she wavered slightly, a warning ringing in the back of her mind, something telling her to wait but she chose to ignore it- “I can feel this connection. This bond between us.” 

“I thought you were lost forever.” Solas’s voice broke with grief, and he slid his hands down her arms, his hands dropping to his sides as a number of emotions crossed his features before his mask slid back into place. “But you are not yet whole.” His voice hardened, and Rook’s hands faltered, falling away as she took a step back. 

“Solas?” 

“There is still much to be done.” He said, his commanding attitude returning. 

“But wait, I want to talk to you more about what happened!” Rook protested, feeling her heart pound in her ears. “What happened to us? I am assuming we made up after our fight-”

“Rook-”

“I don’t understand!” Rook cried, and Solas stood there, his mask ever in place. She felt the sting of tears, as she seemed to often do when Solas was involved. “Help me to understand, Solas.” she breathed, her chest contracting in pain. “If-if we loved each other, then why?! ” she felt the hot tears run down her cheeks, her hands clenched at her sides, and for a moment, she saw a flicker of emotion in Solas’s eyes as he gazed down at her. “Why do you draw me in close only to push me away again?” she whispered, and Solas flinched as if she had hit him. His brows furrowed as he ruminated on his answer for a moment.

“Because I am as I have always been; a man, all too aware of his own failings.” he said quietly, reaching forward to wipe away one of the tears on her cheek. She leaned into his touch, something blossoming deep within her, and she reached out with her spirit to try to touch his. Solas’s eyes widened slightly as he felt her reaching, their spirits mingling briefly, the feelings of pain, betrayal, guilt, love, adoration, and more dancing together before she felt him abruptly slam the door on her, the mingling feeling being cut off instantly. 

“Whenever it came to you, I could never stay away, even if it was for the best.” he said quietly, stepping into her space once more. He cradled her face in his hand, and he brought his other hand to rest gently on her waist. “ Var lath vir suledin .” he whispered, and for a moment, she thought his eyes were the color of the sea on a stormy day.

Then he kissed her.

Chapter Text

The kiss was soft, hesitant almost, unexpectedly so. Solas was holding onto her as if she might break, which she thought odd since she felt he might break instead. She couldn't help the soft moan that escaped her as she leaned into him, and he responded in kind. The grip on her waist tightened, his hand moving from her cheek to the back of her neck, and she allowed her hands to move slowly from his chest, feeling the broad expanse of his shoulders before her hands came together behind his neck, pressing herself against him in an attempt to get as close as possible. Solas broke the kiss, their breath mingling together as he rested his forehead against hers. He was breathing heavily, as if trying to calm himself down, and his hands trembled where he touched Her. 

Rook stood on her toes, surging forward to kiss him again, and he responded with a groan that sent fire through her, his hand entangling itself in her hair, his other hand cupping her ass, squeezing it as he did so, pulling her against him in response. She could feel how hard he was against her stomach, which only fueled her own desire more, one hand slipping between his collar to gently run her fingers over his skin which made him shudder. His skin was cool to the touch, but she could feel the taut muscles of his neck and shoulders, belying the strength he very often did not demonstrate. His tongue was in her mouth then, hot and wet against hers, both of them moaning as they fought each other, her hand gripping the back of his neck as he bent her backwards, tipping her against him. She had never been kissed like this in her life, the emotion and energy and passion that surged through her as he so easily conquered her in a simple kiss was almost too much. She could feel his biceps through his clothing, his muscular frame dwarfing hers, and she couldn't help moaning as he moved from her mouth to her neck, leaving scorching kisses in his wake. She was being pressed into him, and her eyes fluttered closed as he sucked at the sensitive spot below her ear, undoubtedly leaving a mark as he did so. 

“Amusing that you would be so sensitive here,” Solas's voice was low and deep with desire, "It would appear not much has changed." He lightly bit the spot he had sucked, the scrape of his teeth sending shivers down Rook's spine and causing goosebumps to erupt on her arms. She was wearing a Lord of Fortune scale leather top and leather pants, which both were quite thin and even though Solas's hands were gloved, the touch of his hand on the bare skin of her lower back was maddening.

“Solas…” She murmured, not quite comprehending how she was feeling this good with their clothes still on, and his low chuckle reverberated through her as he ghosted his lips over the rim of her ear, his breath hot as his hand squeezed her ass tighter. “Emma salin,” she breathed, and Solas's eyes met hers once more, their noses touching as his eyes searched hers, for what, she couldn't tell. 

“Not yet.” He murmured. “Not here.” He sighed, leaning back slightly to get a better look at her, as if he was appraising a fine piece of art. He had a mischievous, hooded look in his eyes, a slight smirk on his face. His length was still hot and hard against her, and she almost whined as he held her still against him. 

“There is still much to be done, vhenan.” He said quietly, moving his hand to brush her hair out of her eyes. The gesture was simple, but the touch was reverent, and her heart swelled with what she could only describe as love for him. 

“I know but-”

“ Wake up.” He all but whispered it, and she woke with a jolt. She was staring up at her ceiling, and she was coated in a fine layer of sweat, her sheets on the floor from having been kicked aside. Her hand immediately went to her face, her finger tips barely touching her lips as she closed her eyes, remembering his kiss. She groaned loudly in frustration, slamming a fist into the bed, kicking her legs up in the air for a moment as her thoughts raced. 

“When did I fall back in love with him?” She asked out loud, knowing no one was going to answer her. Was it his stupid smirk? Was it the memories affecting her? Rook wasn't sure but she felt very, very conflicted at the moment. 

He had kissed her. He had called her vhenan. 

…

Rook left her room feeling exceptionally out of touch with reality. Harding met her as she was on her way to breakfast.

“I received word from the Inquisitor.” She began, and Rook nodded numbly in answer. “She can meet us to discuss what's going on with the South.”

“We need some good news.” Rook muttered, her hand going to her neck, rubbing it in an attempt to ease some of the tension there. 

“What happened to your neck?” Harding asked loudly as they entered the dining room. Rook felt her entire body go hot, feeling a moment of severe panic strike her as naturally, all of her companions had made it into the room before her and naturally, all of them looked up as Harding had spoken. 

“Yeah so when and where are we meeting the Inquisitor?” Rook said loudly, moving past Harding with unusual speed as she raced to her spot at the table, quickly shoving some bread into her mouth to avoid talking. She filled her plate as Harding made it to the table to join them, and she could feel everyone looking at her. 

“Yeah Rook, what's on your neck?” Taash asked, reaching over and poking the love bite Solas had left. Rook smacked Taash's hand away, glaring at the Qunari, which prompted Taash to laugh. 

“It… no, you aren't sleeping with anyone.” Neve said from over her cup of coffee, and Rook looked at the detective in disbelief. “Unless we're mistaken?” 

“Mnnmon ber ‘usinezz.” Rook spouted, trying to keep her blush from rising to the tips of her ears.

“I think we ought to let Rook breathe before we hurl questions at her about her love life.” Emmrich said, buttering a slice of toast and not even looking up as he did so.

“The only person it could have been was Solas -” Bellara began, only for a bread roll to smack her directly between the eyes, making her squeak in surprise. 

The table erupted.

Chapter Text

“I can’t believe you’re sleeping with Solas.” Davrin said with somewhere between insulting and hilarious in his tone as they headed into the Hossberg Wetlands once more. Rook groaned while Bellara giggled.

“I don’t really have a choice, Davrin.” Rook said half-heartedly. 

“Maybe not but do you have to neck him while you’re doing it?” Bellara’s giggling grew a bit louder and Rook gave a deep, world weary sigh as only one who has endured the teasing of friends for hours can do. 

“We are not talking about it.” she said loudly as they came up to Evka. 

“We're talking about it.” Davrin said to Bellara, who continued to giggle. Rook rolled her eyes and ignored them. Evka was standing on the edge of what was quite possibly the most miserable looking swamp Rook had ever had the misfortune of seeing. Blight was everywhere as it tended to be in the Hossberg Wetlands, but the water in front of them was dark, almost reddish, and the general atmosphere was depressing and quiet. What remained of the Grey Wardens were scattered about, talking quietly amongst themselves. 

“Glad you could make it.” Evka said, setting her war hammer on the ground, holding it steady. “The dragon is holed up in a broken tower not too far from here. We've already lost eleven Wardens trying to lure it out.” 

“Leave it to me.” Taash said confidently, rolling their shoulders as they walked up. “I have a call that she won't be able to ignore. Once she's out though, we need to find a way to ground her or we'll be done for.” Evka nodded in understanding. 

“Right. You let the Wardens know. We'll head over there and shake things up.” Rook said, trying to ignore how anxious she felt. “Taash, Emmrich, you're with me. Everyone else, help the Wardens.” 

“The forward Wardens already know you're coming, and they'll let you through the gates. Good luck. Let's go kill a dragon.” Evka said, and the team moved off in their separate directions. 

“Dragons always fascinated me,” Rook began telling Taash as they were waved through to the crumbled tower where they could hear the dragon growling below. The growls made the ground tremor slightly, and Rook had a flashback to them fighting it in Minrathous. “I hate what Ghilan’nain has done to this one.” She finished, and Taash looked at her.

“Yeah.” They said understandingly. “Underneath all that blight is a hurt and angry dragon.”

“We would do well to put it out of its misery quickly.” Emmrich added quietly, and Taash and Rook murmured in agreement. The Wardens were loading ballistas on the old ruins, each pike requiring two of them to carry it. Rook readied her bow, suddenly wishing she had a shield instead as Taash walked up to the tower, a calling horn in their hand. The wardens called to each other, everyone drawing their weapons, manning the ballistas, and Rook watched as Taash walked to a ledge. They blew their horn, the sound reverberating all around them, the broken tower magnifying the blow.

The dragon did not answer. 

Taash shook their head, and then angrily breathed fire into the area over the giant hole they were standing in front of. The effect was instant; the ground shook as the dragon roared, and Rook flinched as it erupted from the tower. Somehow she managed to not get hit by falling rocks as the dragon landed. She steadied herself, firing off an arrow, missing by a mile. 

The blighted dragon was monstrous. A regular dragon was majestic, albeit intimidating, and they usually exuded a power and grace that no other creature could match. This dragon had been twisted; red blight boils covered it’s body, tendrils hung all the way down it’s neck, and it looked as if its skin was decaying, a blood red glow coming from the empty spots where scales might have been once. It’s eyes glowed the same color as the Blight, and its roar sent out shock waves, the mere sound applying pressure to Rook as she fought to stand up against it. Molten lava spewed from its mouth like a water geyser, and the creature (for could it still truly be called a dragon at this point?) swung around violently, its tail coming into direct contact with Rook and Emmrich, sending them tumbling down the cliff. Rook rolled ungracefully, trying to stop herself, her bow being lost on the way down, rocks striking random bits of her body as the momentum carried her down. She skidded to her feet as the ground flattened out into a frozen lake, and broke into a run, drawing her swords as she did so. The dragon landed in front of her, fire spewing from its mouth which she rolled out of the way, barely missing it, but close enough she could feel the heat. Somewhere Emmrich and Taash had made it down the cliff side in one piece as well, and the fight began in earnest. 

Emmrich threw spells, Taash dove in and out again with their axes, and Rook rolled and dodged and swung with her swords. Any hit from the dragon's claws or tail would be disastrous in this fight and it took almost everything Rook had to keep moving to avoid being hit. The dragon was moving too fast to get hit by the ballistas, and the Wardens who could were trying to rain arrows on it, which made fighting even more difficult because they had to avoid getting hit by arrows as well. The fight raged on, and Taash landed a blow on one it's legs that forced it to The ground, it's softer underbelly exposed as it tried to get back up. Rook saw her chance; she surged forward, slamming her swords into the dragon's jugular. The beast roared in pain, hot blood spewing itself all over Rook and the ground. Rook withdrew her swords, stabbing it again, and again, while Taash joined her, slicing away at its chest cavity. Before long, the dragon stilled, and for a moment there was silence.

“Did we kill it?” Emmrich asked, his voice carrying over from the edge of the lake where his staff was glowing with the green energy of his magic. Rook was about to answer when screams erupted from above them.

“SECOND DRAGON!!” A different dragon's roar echoed all around them, and the dragon lying on the ground, who's eyes had faded to darkness, suddenly blazed with life once more. 

“You gotta be fucking kidding me-” Rook didn't have time to say more as the red dragon came back to life, her swords being forcefully ejected from its throat as it healed itself. Taash grabbed Rook forcefully by her waist, and ran over to Emmrich to regroup. They looked up, and sure enough, another dragon had joined the fray. This dragon flew down, breathing fire upon the Wardens on the cliffs, their screams as they burned alive echoing all around them. 

“Rook!” Davrin yelled from somewhere above them, “Its Ghilan’nain!” Rook looked around furiously and saw the blighted elven god wannabe. Blight had erupted everywhere, and Ghilan’nain had sprouted From one of the blood pools, her twisting, tentacle body towering over those around her. She had grabbed a Warden, wrapping him in her tendrils, and then stabbed him multiple times with other parts of her body, dropping the dead Warden to the ground where darkspawn were rising from the blight pools. The sounds of battle raged around them, and the second dragon landed next to the first as the first one stood up again, shaking its ugly head as it righted itself. 

The second dragon was blue and gray, with the same blught boils all over it and the same decaying skin. This one glowed blue, and it's fire was blue as well. Must have been some type of ice variant before Ghilan’nain had taken hold of it.

“Taash I lost my weapons!” Rook yelled, and Taash looked around quickly. They dove to the ground, grabbing something, and threw Rook a sword which she barely caught, and then of all things a shield. Rook grunted as she hoisted the shield onto her arm, the irony not being lost on her.

“Wardens! You defied me at Weisshaupt!” Ghilan’nain’s voice echoed around them. “The blight is not a disease but the greatest tool of creation.” She continued to spout such other nonsense as she flew over to go stand next to the two dragons. “Bring me the elf child's head. The pawn of the Dread Wolf will trouble us no more.” 

“At least she's not a cloud in the sky this time.” Rook said, swinging her sword about, trying to get comfortable with her new weapons. Emmrich looked unamused at her joke. Just then, a glowing blue bolt flew overhead, striking the red dragon in the neck, the bolt sticking out of either side of its neck as it roared in pain. Rook turned to look at who had shot it; the Shadow Dragons had arrived.

“We thought you could use some help!” The Viper called, the group of Shadow Dragons were loading up ballistas with the glowing blue bolts. “Enchanted ballista bolts, strong enough to pierce a blighted dragon's hide!” Ghilan’nain screeched in rage, her twisted form removing the bolt from her dragon, healing it as she did so. 

“You are no match for-” her cry was cut short as suddenly there was an enormous cheer from the Wardens, and Rook turned to look back at Evka. Evka and the rest of the Wardens were besides themselves as one lone Warden came running down the slope to come stand beside Rook's group. 

“It's the Hero of Ferelden!!” Rook heard from somewhere up above her. Her jaw dropped. 

“I was in the area and felt the Blight surge.” The woman said, her Ferelden accent strong. The woman in question was tall, her armor dented and dirty from years in the wilderness, with patchwork all throughout it. Somehow the image of a griffon was still visible on her chest piece, and her two swords were wicked. One glowed blue with an otherworldly light, and the other sparkled with electricity. She moved with the grace of an experienced hunter, with alarming blue eyes and short, choppy brown hair. “I figured you could use a hand.”

“We won't say no to more help.” Rook said, not quite believing she was meeting the Hero of Ferelden, Queen Elissa Theirin. Elissa smiled, her eyes crinkling.

“Who is that?” Taash asked as Elissa ran ahead of them to jump at the dragons. 

“Tell you later.” Rook said, following the Warden Queen. 

The fight raged with renewed vigor and ferocity on both sides. The dragon's were grounded by the enchanted bolts fired from the Shadow Dragons, and the Wardens were fighting with renewed confidence with the appearance of their legendary leader. The darkspawn that they had been fighting were being pushed back, and before long Elissa and Taash had killed the red dragon once more. 

“One more push!” Evka's voice called out, and the Wardens responded with a resounding cry. Emmrich, Taash, Elissa, and Rook were circling the blue dragon, closing in on it. It's left wing had three ballista bolts embedded in it, and it had one more sticking out of its right flank. Blighted blood oozed from its wounds, the dragon lashing out in fear and anger as it knew its life was about to end. 

“NOW!” Rook yelled, and simultaneously the four of them launched an attack while one of the ballista bolts slammed into the dragon's side right behind its front foreleg. The dragon screeched, the sound waves forcing Rook back a little, Ghilan’nain roared in fury, and the last of the darkspawn fell all at once. The blue dragon let out one last guttural cry before it fell with a crash that shook the ground, the blue of its eyes and boils fading into darkness as it died, and a cheer went up around them.

“NO!” Ghilan’nain’s voice was cracking under emotion, and she began to chant in elvish, her hands glowing dark red as blood coursed up from the ground around her. Large blight tendrils rose from the ground and began to wrap around each dragon, slowly raising them up. “I will remake them, it is no matter-” her voice chilled Rook to her core as she looked around frantically, seeing the red and blue of each dragon slowly coming back.

“She's-” she didn't have time to stop and say it, she was already running towards a ballista that had fallen to the edge of the lake. She jumped and dove Between blight tendrils, reaching the ballista as Ghilan’nain started to cackle as the dragon's began to stir.

“She's reanimating the dragons!!” Taash's voice cut through the noise, but Rook was one step ahead. She righted the ballista with a great effort, turned it to face Ghilan’nain, and hit the release as hard as she could. Almost in slow motion she watched as the bolt flew through the air, spinning and spinning but striking true, going halfway through Ghilan’nain’s torso. The twisted elf let loose a horrendous howl of pain, her body twisting over itself as she fell to the ground, black blood spouting from where the bolt was embedded in her body. It wasn't enough to kill her, but it was enough to distract her, and the tendrils around the dragon's fell, both dragon's falling back to the ground, the lights going out once more as they stayed dead. Rook realized this was a chance to kill Ghilan’nain once and for all.

“Let's go!!” She screamed, motioning to her group. She began the race to get closer, and she heard Evka give a rallying cry as the Wardens followed suit with another war cheer, everyone suddenly in motion. Rook was ten paces from Ghilan’nain when it happened.

Time seemed to stop as a black ball if energy appeared, blasting everything back from Ghilan’nain as purple magic sparked viciously in the air. Everyone stood as if frozen, and Rook grit her teeth, willing her body to move, to see what this new threat was.

Elgar’nan was here.

The man-god, the elven All-Father, Eldest of the Sun, God of Vengeance and the Sun was dark skinned with black hair and had reddish, purple eyes that Rook could only describe as cruel. He Had not warped his body like Ghilan’nain, but he was still imposing, taller than Solas at least, with a large golden crown affixed to his head, and the power he was emanating was oppressive. It was enough to stop every single warrior on the field.

Except Rook.

Although she was barely able to resist, she fought with every bit of willpower she had against the oppressive air that had appeared when Elgar’nan had. 

“Sister.” Elgar’nan's voice was just like it had been in Solas’s memory. “We cannot afford to lose you.”

“They stole Razikale from me Elgar’nan.” Ghilan’nain sobbed, holding her side where the bolt still stuck out. “I wanted-”

“A thrall is easily replaced, you are not. Without you the blight is mindless, only you are able to wield it with creation.” Elgar’nan’s voice stank of false sweetness, and he touched the bolt in Ghilan’nain’s side. She cried out and the bolt vanished, melting away into nothingness, but Ghilan’nain clung to Elgar’nan for support. 

“We will focus our efforts in Arlathan.” Ghilan’nain said, but Elgar’nan shifted suddenly, his eyes searching the area. His eyes landed on Rook, and his face contorted in a snarl.

“One resists.” He sneered, almost amused, and Ghilan’nain’s eyes flashed towards Rook.

“The Dread Wolf's influence lingers.” She gasped.

“Always meddling.” Elgar’nan's voice dripped with disdain, and for a moment it seemed as if he was going to do something to Rook but Ghilan’nain crumbled, and he looked down at her, clearly disgusted. 

“Let us go. We have much to do.” He met Rook's eyes as he said this, a sneer on his lips, and with a flash of black and purple the two of them were gone. The effect was immediate, the air lightening, Everyone gasping and moving suddenly as the spell was broken. Rook shook, very suddenly aware of how absolutely exhausted she was.

But the day was not over yet.

Chapter Text

Rook made her way back to Evka with Emmrich, Taash, and the freakin Queen of Ferelden , who had just happened to show up mid battle. 

“How should we address you, your highness?” Emmrich asked, ever the gentleman. Elissa laughed, a full bodied laugh that had Rook smiling as well.

“Good sir I haven't been at court for nigh on fifteen years.” She said with a grin. “Elissa will do.”

“But you're the Hero of Ferelden. ” Emmrich protested, and Elissa rolled her eyes, sheathing her two swords. 

“What people forget is that the ending of the Fifth Blight was a group effort.” She said, her voice tinged with sadness as her eyes took on a faraway look. 

“Wait, you ended the Fifth Blight?” Taash interjected suddenly as Evka and Antoine came into view. The Wardens were busy cleaning up; the wounded and dead needed to be tended to. Davrin, Bellara, Lucanis, Harding, and Neve were already waiting for them as well. The Viper walked over as well. 

“Warden Commander Cousland.” Evka said, inclining her head slightly as they approached. Elissa flinched at her title.

“My name hasn't been Cousland for over twenty years.” She said with a wry smile. “Where is the First Warden?” There was an uncomfortable silence.

“We'll have to fill you in on all the details of Weisshaupt.” Rook said, rubbing the side of her neck where Solas’s hickey was. 

“Where have you been? No one thought you were still alive.” Antoine asked, looking pointedly at Elissa. “Perhaps if you had been with us at Weisshaupt, if we had known-” 

“I've been in the Deep Roads for several years, searching for clues about how to cure the Blight.” Elissa said, looking quite tired all of a sudden. “The Inquisitor sent word, apparently she sent several letters with the Legion of the Dead to try to find me. As world ending trouble was brewing once more, I fought my way back to the surface.” Elissa looked pointedly at Rook. “So, the elven gods are back and they can control the Blight.”

“They're not gods,” Rook was surprised at the pang of irritation she felt when someone called the Evanuris gods. “But they are exceptionally dangerous and we have to stop them or the world is doomed.” Elissa pressed her lips into a thin line, crossing her arms, looking thoughtful. 

“With the First Warden gone, I've been leading the Wardens.” Evka said, and Elissa's eyes flickered to her. “But you outrank all of us.” The meaning of her words were clear. 

“I cannot believe that's the Hero of Ferelden.” Rook heard Davrin whisper excitedly to Lucanis. Davrin was practically bursting with excitement over the walking legend. Lucanis stepped on his foot to get to him to be quiet, and Harding snickered at their interaction.

Rook couldn't help the small smile on her face.

“Well. Before we decide on the power structure of the Wardens, we probably need to get in touch with the Inquisitor.” Elissa said firmly, an air of authority carrying her words. “We may have struck a blow against these false gods, but they are clearly still a threat.”

“I was close enough to hear Ghilan’nain say something about them focusing their efforts in Arlathan.” Rook said, feeling everyone's eyes shift to her. “Harding had said that the Inquisitor could meet with us soon, so we can arrange that meeting quickly.”

“Good.” Elissa nodded, and turned to Evka. “Gather the Wardens, everyone who is left. We'll burn our dead and tend to the wounded, but we need to be ready to move as soon as possible. These wetlands are a nightmare.” 

“Understood.” Evka looked at Rook. “Good thinking, attacking Ghilan’nain before she could reanimate the dragons. If I learned anything today, it's don't bet against Rook.” She said with a smile, and she nodded once more to Elissa before her and Antoine began instructing the Wardens.

Elissa turned to Rook.

“I will stay here for now to help the Wardens. Send word when the meeting with the Inquisitor is ready.”

“Give us a day.” Harding interjected, and Elissa looked at the dwarf. “Eluvians make things sooo much easier for the long distance travelers.” Elissa's eyes twinkled in amusement.

“It seems there is much for me to be caught up on.” She said with a slight grin. “Go rest and get cleaned up. I'll see you when I see you.” The Queen of Ferelden turned and walked to a small group of wardens where she immediately began to help with what they were doing. Harding gave a low whistle as Rook looked at her companions.

“I cannot believe the Hero of Ferelden showed up to help us.” Bellara said, her voice tinged with awe. Davrin was beside himself, almost bouncing.

“Do you think I could get her to sign my shield?” He was saying, “She is the Warden, oh man-” 

“Let's go back to the Lighthouse.” Rook said, feeling the exhaustion creep into her bones. “Let's clean up, rest, eat, and we'll have a meeting with the Inquisitor and Elissa once that's done.” 

.-.-.

Rook was a little upset she didn't see Solas that night, especially after their kiss. The next morning came quickly though and she didn't have much time to dwell on it; the Inquisitor and Elissa were both in the library waiting for her. She descended the stairs quickly; Inquisitor Evelyn Rutherford was seated on the duvet with a man Rook didn't recognize where Neve and Harding would usually sit. Elissa for her part seemed completely at ease, still wearing her rag tag armor, and in the light of the room Rook could see silver strands in her dark brown hair. 

“Evelyn, good to see you again.” Rook said, nodding to the Inquisitor, who nodded back in response. “I see you have met Elissa, the Hero of Fe-”

“ Just  Elissa. Thank you.” Elissa cut her off, and Rook shrugged. 

“It is our first time meeting in person but we have exchanged letters over the years from time to time.” The Inquisitor said, her voice carrying the pleasing cadence of the Free Marches nobility. “Rook, this is my husband, Cullen, Commander of the Inquisition forces.” The man sitting next to Evelyn gave a wry smile to Rook. “I brought him with me so he could give a more thorough explanation of the military operations currently happening in the South.”

“Yes, please tell us.” Elissa said before Rook could. “I…would very much like to hear how Ferelden is handling the current situation.” Cullen cleared his throat before speaking.

“With Evelyn's and Divine Victoria's influence, we have Orlais and Ferelden working together with Orzammar and the Free Marches to crush any darkspawn that come into daylight.” Cullen's voice was deep, his eyes honey gold with hair to match and he was built like a warrior. Rook begrudgingly admitted the man was very attractive. “These Evanuris are focusing their attention on the North, mainly Tevinter and Arlathan, but with the warnings we received from you, Rook, we were able to counter attack anything that might have changed that.” Cullen sounded very grateful about that fact. “Empress Celene and King Alistair have been most accommodating, especially since the Inquisition helped stabilize the South ten years ago with the Breach and Corypheus. Viscount Interim Aveline of Kirkwall is holding off Antaam incursions in the Free Marches with the help of Prince Sebastian of Starkhaven, and the Avvar and Alamaari tribes have agreed to ceasefire since the Fall of Weisshaupt. The Southern Grey Wardens have taken up posts along the Brecilian and Korcari Wilds, as darkspawn incursions have increased dramatically in the last weeks, but we send them regular reinforcements and supplies. The South is in good standing, and we will see that it remains that way. Skyhold hasn't been this busy in years.” He said with a smile, and Evelyn beamed at him. Rook couldn't help but wonder if that was how Reva she had looked at Solas way back when, a look full of love and pride for the man she loved doing what he did best. 

“Excellent.” Rook said with an audible sigh of relief. 

“That is indeed excellent news.” Elissa said, “and ah…Have you seen King Alistair recently?” She sounded almost shy, a blush creeping up her neck. Evelyn looked at her with a knowing smile.

“Not recently, no.” She said apologetically. “Though as far as I know, he is still waiting for you to return.” Rook watched the exchange with interest. Elissa almost looked like a nervous teenager talking about her crush rather than her husband. 

“It has been so long.” She whispered, her hands folded in her lap. 

“So you'll charge Into battle against not one but two blight infected dragons while an ancient elven mage who is all but a goddess is on standby without a second thought, but you're afraid to go see your husband?” Rook asked in disbelief. Cullen snorted as Elissa looked at Rook, her eyes betraying her inner turmoil. 

“I haven't seen my husband-” she faltered, “if we can still truly be called man and wife, I haven't seen him in over fifteen years.” She said, her voice thick with emotion. “I know I have changed; I'm certain he has too.” Rook didn't say anything. She could feel how Elissa was feeling; her relationship with Solas had gotten infinitely more complicated when she remembered her past life, even if it was only bits and pieces. Not to mention she could still feel the ghost of his kiss from two nights ago, and she flushed just thinking about it, the love bite on her thrumming as she reminisced for a moment. 

“Do you still love him?” Evelyn asked tentatively. The love story of Elissa and Alistair was legendary, and Rook had loved it when she first heard it. Two brand new Grey Wardens, thrust into the beginning of the Fifth Blight, on the run from the law, somehow found love with each other as they raced through Ferelden trying to rally the forces they could to stop said Blight. They defeated the Archdemon in the capital city of Denerim, and Queen Elissa had left to go find a cure for the Blight so her and Alistair might live longer than the allotted 20-30 years a Grey Warden has before the Calling takes hold. Elissa didn't answer the question immediately. 

“I want to say yes.” She said, her voice a whisper. Her eyes met Evelyn's. “It's been so long. Who's to say he hasn't moved on?” 

“I've spoken with King Alistair on occasion, given my duties.” Cullen spoke up, his hand finding Evelyn's. “He is still waiting for you.” His voice carried a warmth, and Rook watched as a number of emotions ran across Elissa's face as the weight of his words settled on her. 

“ Oh.” She drew a rattled breath. “That man.” Elissa chuckled lightly, running a hand through her hair. 

Rook idly wondered when this had turned into a therapy session. 

“So what's our next move?” Rook said, breaking the awkward silence. 

“We will return to Skyhold and continue the fight in the South.” Evelyn said, looking at Rook. 

“I think it is time that I also return to Ferelden.” Elissa said quietly. “If we are to fight these self proclaimed gods, I feel like I should be with the man who has been waiting for me.” 

“What about the Wardens?” Rook asked, knowing that Elissa would go regardless. “The First Warden was killed at Weisshaupt, they have no real leader right now.”

“I shall inform Evka that she is now the First Warden.” Elissa said, her eyes clouding over. “Then, I will return with the Inquisitor and make my way to Denerim.” 

“I am sure the return of Ferelden's Queen will boost morale back home.” Cullen said with a smile, and Elissa laughed.

“For what it's worth, anyway.” She said lightly.

“What about your group Rook?” Evelyn asked, and Rook shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

“I think I have to go fight a fragment of Mythal in the Crossroads.” Rook said with a world weary sigh. “There's one more Revenant to find and fight as well to cleanse the Crossroads of the Blight. Then, Ghilan’nain had mentioned focusing their efforts in Arlathan before her and Elgar’nan left. So the Crossroads, and then Arlathan.” She said, already not wanting to go fist fight Mythal. 

“It sounds like we have a plan.” Evelyn said, rising from her seat. Cullen, Elissa, and Rook stood with her as the group made their way to the Eluvian room. “Good luck Rook. We'll be in touch.” 

Rook waved weakly as the three of them melted away into the Eluvian, and she moaned, rolling her shoulders when she was alone. She opted to return to her room, since it didn't seem like anyone else was awake yet. 

As she came up the stairs, the door opposite to the music room had lit up. The Caretaker materialized in front of it as Rook made it to the top of the stairs. 

"The Wolf's Den is open to you, Shield of the Wolf." Before Rook could say anything, it had dematerialized already, and she let loose a puff of frustration at it. The door slid open magically, revealing what appeared to be a magical warp point, similar to the ones she had seen around Arlathan. Figuring she had nothing to lose, she walked into it, feeling the rush of magic over her skin, the light blinding her and just as suddenly fading away, and she was standing in a room that she recognized instantly.

It was Solas's room, from one of her memories. His larger bed had been replaced by a small one pushed haphazardly against the far wall, his desk sat facing the huge doors that she knew led to the balcony. But besides that, the room was devoid of life, only hinting at what had once been the central hub of a massive rebellion. The mural behind his desk was new to her, though, and she stared openly at it. 

The image of the six eyed wolf took center of what she could only suppose was the center of Arlathan. It took her breath away; the image Solas had painted was the exact same one that had been emblazoned on her shield for him. Was it a coincidence or did it mean more? 

Reva. Solas’s voice caressed the back of her mind like the lightest of feather touches. She stumbled slightly, as Solas had not actually spoken to her outside of the Fade before. I…would like to speak to you. He sounded hesitant, as if she didn’t want to talk to him. She blinked, not answering him. She looked at the elegant mural on the wall; the six eyed wolf stared out, its mouth open in a snarl, its jaws and eyes painted red. 

“I’m taking your bed.” she announced, heading over to the small bed in the corner of the room. She felt a small hum of amusement from the back of her mind as she felt Solas react to what she had said. She laid in the bed, snuggling up under the covers as best she could, and closed her eyes, her heart hammering in her chest. 

It felt like mere seconds had passed when she opened her eyes again. She was surprised to find herself sitting on a ledge, looking out towards the great grey emptiness that was the Fade prison Solas was in. Floating rocks still hung in the air, but as she looked about she found Solas sitting not quite next to her, his long legs dangling over the edge, his posture more relaxed than she had seen him since they had started their Fade discussions. 

“They called me the Dread Wolf, Fen’Harel, as an insult.” Solas’s voice was low, carrying deep intentions as he began to speak. “I took it as a badge of pride. You, however, always followed me." He wasn’t looking at her, his gaze focused on something far in the distance that she couldn’t see. She admired his profile; the strong line of his jaw, high cheekbones, even the way his lips moved as he spoke. She was absolutely enraptured in him, in every way, in the best and the worst ways anyone could be. She found herself staring at his lips as he spoke, his forearms resting on his thighs as he looked out into the nothingness. “Mythal called you my Shield first.” he almost sounded wistful, finally turning to look at her. Rook scooted a bit closer to him, not because she wanted to be near him but because his voice was lowering and she wanted to hear him. That was definitely why. 

“What did you say to that?” she asked quietly, daring to lean her shoulder into his. Her hands were folded in her lap as she tried to distract herself from how solid he felt next to her. Solas leaned back some, his right hand coming to rest right next to her thigh on the rocks they sat on, his hand a hair’s breadth away from touching her leg. 

“I believe it was the beginning of the end of my…partnership with her.” he said, casting her a sideways glance that made her heart flutter. “Mythal never liked that you and I stayed close when I was her protector and-” he cut himself off quickly, looking away as he did so. Rook knew what he had almost said. Lover . 

“It is what it is, Solas.” Rook said quietly, and Solas looked back at her, his eyes a storm of blue and purple. “We can’t change the past.” Solas searched her face, his lips in a thin line as he did so. She couldn’t help but lean in closer to him, pressing her body against his arm that had invaded her space, reveling in the solid warmth he gave. She looked down at his hand, choosing to focus on it instead of how beautiful and tortured he looked.

“The mural in your room. Is it a self portrait?” She asked carefully, taking her hand to trace lines on his. She felt him take a sharp breath at the contact, her touch feather light as she gently traced the leather of his glove. She wanted to feel his hands, to feel how strong and calloused they would be but she didn't dare try to remove his glove. She could feel Solas’s gaze on her, as if he couldn't be certain that she was being so bold. 

“In a sense.” He murmured, his voice close to her ear. She felt her cheeks burn, but he made no movements, instead seeming to be content To let her trace circles and hearts on the back of his hand. “It reminds me of what I lost.” Her heart skipped, and she dared to look up at him through her eyelashes. He was leaning closer, his eyes lidded, and she felt small next to him. She wanted to kiss him. He looked at her lips, leaning in-

“We killed Ghilan’nain’s blighted dragons.” She said instead, looking back down at his hand. She felt Solas’s lips on her ear, and she felt her body alight with desire. “Elgar’nan took her away though.” Solas stilled as her words settled over him.

“You are fortunate to have gotten away.” He said quietly, allowing herself to continue her ministrations on his hand. 

“They are apparently doing something in Arlathan.” She said, allowing her fingers to move up to his forearm, drawing the lightest of lines along it as she did so. “We will clean the Crossroads of the Blight, and then head there.” She felt Solas stiffen for a moment. 

“Be careful in the Crossroads.” He all but whispered, and she allowed herself to chuckle quietly. 

“I'll be alright.” She said, glancing up at him. The look on his face was pained, as though he carried the weight of the world on his broad shoulders. Which, she thought amusedly, he probably felt that he did. “May I ask a question?” She asked lightly, and Solas leaned his forehead against hers, the intimate movement stirring something deep inside her. 

“I may have an answer.” 

“What happened to Felassan?” She asked lightly, genuinely curious. “I have found notes of his scattered, and I remember him fleetingly.” For a long moment, Solas said nothing. He leaned away from her, his eyes searching hers. “Solas?” She asked, her voice faltering as she saw his mask move back in place, his gaze returning to the void in front of them. 

“I murdered him.” Solas said quietly. Their connection was strong enough for her to feel his waves of regret that came crashing down around her at this admission. She could only stare, the weight of his words fit to drown her. “He deserved better and I-” his jaw clenched, and he swallowed thickly, closing his eyes.

“But. Why?” Rook asked in disbelief, her hand having stilled on his. 

“Because I am a fool.” His voice trembled with emotion, and she could feel him try to rein in his feelings, the clawing of regret and pain edging back from the recesses of her mind. “I betrayed him. I betrayed you .” His voice did break at that, and despite everything said and unsaid, she instinctively went to wrap her arms around him. He stiffened at first, but as she shifted to draw his head into her shoulder, he relaxed, melting against her touch. “I do not deserve your kindness.” He protested quietly, yet he allowed her to hug him, her small frame pressed against his in what she hoped was comforting to him.

“Maybe not.” She admitted, and she could feel his sharp intake of breath, “But I am giving it to you anyway.” She tried to think of Felassan, their friend. He had been steadfast and loyal, with a quick wit and a sharp tongue. Solas released a rattled sigh, and she almost jumped when she felt his hand on her leg, pulling her closer to him. The sudden contact on her leg made her face burn, her mind jumping to a more intimate scene, one where he pushed her against the ground, grinding his hips against hers, pinning her hands over her head as he kissed her-

His chuckle broke her out of her debaucherous thoughts, and she knew he might as well have heard what she had been thinking about. 

“I tell you something terrible, and yet the smallest of touches is almost enough to send you over.” His voice was now laced with a darker purpose, and he moved once more, leaning away from her to look down at her. Damn him he had that smirk on his face, that predatory look on his eyes, and she was right next to him -

“You're just trying to distract me.” She said, probably a bit louder than she had needed to. Solas chuckled and leaned in closer, his hand cupping her jaw, his thumb caressing her cheek gently.

“Is it working?” He asked, eyes half closed as he stared unashamedly at her. She could feel her blush, her desire growing in her chest as she leaned in just a bit closer, their lips almost touching. He was so close. She could smell him, magic and leather and his own arousal lit her senses on fire. His eyes, a mixture of blue and purple today, were dark with desire for her . By everything she held dear did she want him. 

“No.” She whispered, trying to not close her eyes. He smirked, his sharp canines catching the light, tipped her head back slightly, and kissed her. It was slow, deep, and she couldn't help moaning as his tongue slid into her mouth easily. She melted into him, her hands grasping at his armor, and he held her firmly but gently, pulling her closer. She wanted him, needed him -

In one swift movement, she had climbed onto his lap, her legs straddling his waist, and he gave a hum of approval as his hands teased their way down her arms, sliding around her waist to cup her ass, each cheek in one hand as he squeezed her, the sensation making her wetter than she remembered being in any recent memory. She felt his cock hard against her cunt, exciting her more, the friction there sending shivers of pleasure through her, the want and yearning building in her throat as she pressed herself closer to him, her breasts pushing into his chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Solas allowed himself to pull her closer to him, their kiss deepening, her knees on either side of his hips, and Rook was pressed flush against him. She took the opportunity to explore his shoulders and chest with her hands, reveling in how muscular and strong he felt even through his clothes. Solas seemed to be doing the same, allowing her to kiss him with such intensity, their tongues meeting and dancing, gasping and panting as she broke the kiss to move to his neck, desperate to please him, to put a mark on him like he had her-

“Let me stay with you.” she all but begged him between kisses, her turn to whisper into his ear. He shuddered visibly, his hands clenching her ass as he rocked his hips forward into her, drawing a moan from her, “Let me stay and love you-”

“We shouldn’t.” he gasped out, as her one hand trailed down his chest to rub his cock through his clothing. She gripped and teased it, feeling the tension coil in him as he fought against his baser instincts. 

“Why?” she bit his ear lobe, sucking on it, and he groaned. Just as quickly, he had flipped her onto her back on the rocky ground, one hand holding her leg up against him, the other cradling the back of her head so she wouldn’t hit any rocks. Their noses were touching, their lips scarcely apart, her hands suddenly around his neck again as the momentum had forced her to grab onto him suddenly. He chuckled darkly, his brows scrunching up slightly as he leaned back just enough so his face was all she could see. She admired the lines of his jaw, the sharp angles so beautiful to her, the lightest of freckles scattered across his cheeks, the deep intelligent gaze of his poring deep into her as if just by looking at her he could see every one of her thoughts. 

“This is not the most comfortable place for the kind of sex I wish to have with you.” he growled, and Rook’s mind went blank as she registered what he had said. His thumb teased circles on her thigh, the grip on her neck tightening ever so slightly, and he tilted his head to look at her, obviously amused, his lips almost mocking her. 

“But,” she all but whined, “I want you .” Solas’s low laughter brought up ancient feelings, feelings of the purest love and joy she had ever known from their earliest days together. 

“And I, you.” he said quietly, his gaze full of longing and perhaps something else, a feeling he wasn’t quite letting her see. “But not here.” Before he could dismiss her, Rook surged forward, kissing him forcefully, startling him at first, but he melted into the kiss, into her, as he then allowed himself to press into her on the ground.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.” she whispered as she broke apart to gaze into his eyes, and she saw the storm form in them once more, the blue and purple mixing together into a beautiful orchestra that she had no doubt was tearing him apart inside. 

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.” he whispered back, and she kissed him gently, trying to pour all of her feelings, past and present, into this kiss. They pulled apart from each other, staring into each other’s eyes, their breath and spirits mingling, and Rook had never felt more seen in her entire life than she did now with the elven god of lies, treachery, and rebellion, lying on top of her. He was, and had always been, her person, and she knew that she was really, truly, and royally fucked . 

Chapter Text

Rook stirred, not realizing where she was at first. She could still feel Solas’s hands and lips on her, ghosts of a touch, and she blinked awake, realizing she was back in the Lighthouse. She wasn’t sure how many hours had passed, but she felt rested, calm even. Solas’s presence was a quiet, grounding feeling in the back of her mind, and the warmth that blossomed from her chest could only be because of him. 

She made it to the dining room, where the group was milling about, apparently waiting on their fearless leader to awaken. 

“I take it your meeting with the Inquisitor and the Hero of Ferelden went well?” Emmrich asked, looking up from his cup of tea as she sat herself at the head of the table. Varric had deigned to join them this morning, although he was sitting off in the corner, merely watching. No one seemed to notice him though. Almost like a gh-

An immediate, sharp pain shot through the left side of her forehead, and Rook flinched, her hand instinctively going to rub the pained area. She waved it off at the other’s looks of concern.

“Elissa has decided to return to Ferelden.” she announced, filling her plate. “The south of Thedas is standing strong, thank the Maker for small blessings.” There was a murmur of agreement at the table. “And today, we’re going into the Crossroads to go finish the last Revenant and then find that fragment of Mythal that Morrigan told us about.” She took a bite of a muffin. Tasteless. “Davrin, take Harding and Taash to the Hossberg Wetlands to go help Antoine and Evka. Neve and Lucanis, go back to Minrathous for today to see what else you can find about what the Venatori are up to. Emmrich and Bellara, we’ll go to the Crossroads. We’ll divide and conquer for the next couple of days, clean up the loose ends we need to as quickly as possible before we head to Arlathan to see what Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain are up to.” 

“Question.” Davrin raised his hand. Rook raised an eyebrow at him.

“Go ahead.”

“Did Elissa sign my shield before she left?”

…

“So!” Rook said, clapping her hands together as they walked into the Crossroads. “What shall we do first?” 

“We could try Mythal first.” Bellara said warily, “Morrigan said we might be able to talk her into helping us. If we talk her down we won’t have to fight and I’m not super keen on fighting her if we have to.”

“Agreed.” Emmrich said. Rook did love the senior watcher, he was always so composed and refined, even when they were knee deep in blood. “If we can talk to her, convince her to help us…”

“Right.” Rook felt the barest traces of Solas’s presence, and she looked towards the pathway that Morrigan had opened when they had spoken. She couldn’t presume to know what Solas was thinking about this course of action, but she definitely hoped he wouldn’t be too upset if she ended up punching Mythal in her face. “I guess we’re going to have tea with a presumed goddess.” The trio began walking towards the gateway, the Crossroads being ever quiet in the way that a graveyard was quiet. The air got noticeably cooler as they took the path, the rocky crevices slanting downwards quickly. 

“Why is it cold? ” Bellara grumbled, quickly casting a spell to keep the three of them warm despite the temperature drop. The path ended almost abruptly, and the Caretaker and it’s boat materialized next to the dock-like area like it did in the other areas of the Crossroads. 

“To the Ancient Nest.” The Caretaker’s voice was, as always, cool and distant as if being spoken from far away, and the group climbed into the boat to allow it to carry them to wherever it went. 

“I do always love this part.” Emmrich said conspiratorially to Bellara, who nodded enthusiastically as the boat floated through the air and the clouds. Around them, huge buildings loomed in and out of the clouds, faces of kings and queens whose names had long since been forgotten decorated statues along them, turrets of broken crystal floated through the air as the Caretaker wove them seamlessly along an invisible highway. Too quickly though the usual scenery of the Crossroads faded, and mountains took their place, their presence quiet and foreboding as they drew nearer to wherever this fragment of Mythal stayed.

“The magic is thicker here.” Emmrich said quietly, causing Bellara and Rook to look at him. “Do you feel it?”

“I do.” Bellara muttered, looking very uncomfortable. “Do you think she’ll listen to us?” a landscape had appeared before them, looking much like the ruins of a large coliseum in a mountain valley, but covered in snow. 

“Only one way to find out.” Rook said as the Caretaker brought the ship to a stop. The group climbed out, Emmrich helping Rook and Bellara out of the boat. The snow was a few inches deep, with high cliffs on either side of the path before them. Rook could see the flat planes of what had once been a magnificent coliseum, the ruins of enormous seating stands crumbled all about it. There were nine large stone thrones that had crumbled about the edges, each one an appropriate distance from the other one. 

“There’s a seat for each of the Evanuris.” Bellara whispered. It didn’t seem right to speak loudly, with how quiet and oppressive the air was here. 

“And there she is.” Rook muttered. They got closer, and there, at the edge of the cliff closest to them, stood a woman. She glowed with an ethereal light, her clothes and hair whiter than the snow around them.

Rook couldn’t help but be smug that she was slightly taller. 

“It has been centuries since any petitioners have stood before me.” her voice was pleasing, lilting, and she didn’t turn to look at them as they approached. Rook couldn’t help the anxiety gnawing in her stomach. This woman, this bitch, was the reason Solas had destroyed himself, had destroyed the world. Granted the Evanuris were all pretty terrible, but if she hadn't drawn him into being, had him forge the lyrium dagger, make the Titans tranquil...

“Rook…” Emmrich’s voice carried a warning, and she stilled, not even realizing her hands had clenched into fists. She had kept the shield and sword that Taash had thrown her in the dragon fight, and she was already itching to dive at this woman. 

“I cannot leave this place, but I can watch. Even the true Fade is denied to me here. So tell me, petitioner, why do you stand before your goddess now?” The woman turned, and for the barest hint of a second, recognition flashed across her features. The Mythal Reva remembered had black hair, eyes the color of the moon, but this was a fragment, one taken from a murdered queen who would be goddess. It seemed, however, that this fragment recognized the spirit of Reva, just as Reva recognized her. 

"You are not a god-" Rook started but Bellara stepped in front of her quickly.

“We’ve come to ask for your help with the fight against the Evanuris.” Bellara said, forcefully kicking Rook in her shin. Rook hissed, hopping to the side, biting her lip as the pain shot through her quickly. Shin kicks always hurt. Mythal looked at Bellara, who almost shrank under the weight of her gaze.

“That is why you have come to ask me for help. Why should I help you? ” 

“Because it’s the right thing to do.” Rook answered, trying to control her breathing. Memories were flashing through her head, unbidden, centuries of torment and anguish spent watching Mythal take and twist Solas into something he had never wanted to be. The memories came crashing down in her mind all at once. Mythal leveled Rook with a gaze that made Emmrich and Bellara take a step back.

“You always were too sentimental, Reva.” the feigned benevolence of the mighty ‘goddess’ had disappeared, replaced instead with a vicious sneer, her eyes glowing sharply. The temperature around them dropped lower.

“Rook…” Bellara said, a question and a warning in her voice. Rook took a deep breath, steadying herself, feeling a surge of magic within her as the deep magic in this ‘nest of the ancients’ had affected her as well. Reva hadn’t been a mage the way the other ancient elves had been, but she knew enough to hold her own in a fight. Rook gave Emmrich and Bellara a reassuring glance, stepping forward, squaring her shoulders, one hand on the hilt of her sword, her other clenched at her side, the thrum of magic coursing through her fingers. 

“Solas is helping us.” she said, unable to keep the smugness out of her voice. Mythal’s eyes flashed, but she did not move.

“Solas.” she hissed mockingly. “He has not been to see me since awakening. Why should I do anything for him?” Rook felt her eye twitch.

This.

Bitch.

“Do you not care, even after everything he has ever done for you?” Rook asked, and Mythal scoffed. 

“He had his uses.” she said dismissively. “If you are trying to convince me you are doing a poor-” she didn’t get to finish because Rook’s fist connected directly with her face. Mythal was hit with such force that she flew off the cliff into the arena, and Rook jumped down after her, fists ready to pound her even more. Mythal was caught so off guard that she crashed into the ground, tumbling into the snow, but she leapt to her feet, her hair wild and the dumb crown she wore knocked off. Rook was quick, she ran forward, stomping purposefully on the crown, snapping it in half. Mythal’s eyes glowed with fury.

“You dumb bitch.” Mythal spoke in elvhen but Rook understood it in Common, “You always were his whining shadow, chasing after your betters-” Mythal paused, her hand going to her face, and she touched her mouth where Rook had hit her. She drew her hand away to stare at the black blood that stained her pristine fingers.

Rook had made Mythal bleed, and if that wasn't the best feeling Rook had had recently-

Before Rook could get close again to hit her, she was thrown back with a blast of magic, skidding across the snow. She drew her sword and shield, regaining her balance-

–

Up above, Emmrich and Bellara stood awkwardly on the cliff. They watched as Mythal began to throw wild magic at Rook, who ducked and wove as though she could see the attacks coming. The two stood there for a moment in silence.

“Um.” Bellara asked, looking at Emmrich. “Should…should we help?” 

“Probably.” Emmrich said dully. 

–

"When I slept with him, do you know what truly incensed me? What made me despise you so much that I ripped him from you, body and soul?” Mythal sneered, blood leaking from her nose and lip, a wicked look in her glowing ethereal eyes. “When he was sleeping, holding me, after making love to me, he would whisper YOUR NAME!! ” Mythal unleashed a fury of lightning and fire at Rook. She tried her best to dodge, but it struck her leg, the fire and lightning searing through her skin, blood, ash, and burning flesh filling her senses as she rolled lamely to the side as she cried out. “It did not matter how long you two were apart, or how far from you I took him. Not even marking him as mine worked!” the fury and the hatred in Mythal’s voice boomed all around her, the wind howling as Mythal’s magic wrecked the area around them, Rook screaming in pain, her sword and shield lying forgotten as she writhed on the ground. "Not when I drew him from the Fade, not when he killed the Titans dreams!” another excruciating bolt of fire ripped through Rook’s side, and she was barely hanging on to consciousness. She could feel the faint tug of Bellara’s magic trying to heal her, keeping her alive, keeping her from falling into the darkness that was threatening to consume her, and in her haze of awareness she made a note to thank Bellara if she made it through this alive. Suddenly the pain stopped, the howling of the wind quieted, and the air was still except for the faint hum of the magic Bellara was pouring into Rook from a distance, desperately trying to keep Rook from dying. Rook coughed, spitting up some blood, and she looked up at the spectre of Mythal. She could feel the pulse of her own magic, it had created a barrier between her and Mythal, and it was strong enough to keep the wannabe goddess at bay. 

“You know,” she said hoarsely, wobbling to her feet, dusting off her thighs as she did so, “I never liked you.” she spit, blood tainting the snow covered stones where her spit landed. Mythal was glowing with an otherworldly rage barely ten feet from her, her form white and spectral and crackling with power, even if it was infinitesimal in comparison to what she had once been. “Know what’s even better?” Rook asked, cracking her back, twisting her head so quickly her neck cracked in several places as she felt her muscles being sewn back together as quickly as Bellara could work.

“Do tell, I have waited centuries for this conversation.” Mythal said dryly, with a smug air of superiority. Rook smirked, chuckling at her.

“I’m stronger than you.” Rook replied, and within a second, she had leapt forward once more, her barrier shattering, her fist connecting with Mythal’s jaw. Mythal staggered and Rook took advantage, landing blow after blow. Rook allowed Reva’s feelings to merge with hers, the fight and the emotions releasing themselves with every hit that landed. Rook still felt the surge of Bellara’s magic as she healed her from afar, and Mythal’s face was covered in bruises and cuts as Rook landed one more exceptionally wicked hit, smashing her nose, black blood squirting out as Mythal flew backwards, hitting the ground. Rook was breathing heavily, feeling exceptionally liberated, even if she knew Solas would disapprove of her beating Mythal to a bloody pulp for his sake. 

“Enough!!” Mythal’s voice boomed around her, and Rook felt a flicker of fear as she saw the woman stand, being enveloped in light as she transformed into something much larger. Rook’s shoulders sagged, staring at the enormous dragon that now stood before her. The dragon roared, a few cuts still visible on its face, and she heard Emmrich and Bellara yell something at her as Mythal took flight, the enormous purple high dragon spewing lightning into the air around them.

"Bring it on." 

Chapter Text

The fight dragged on. Considering they had killed one Archdemon and two dragons in less than a week and they were already fighting another dragon, Rook vaguely wondered when the punch line was going to be delivered. Mythal as a dragon was, quite frankly, a bitch to fight. Just as they would whittle her down, she’d fly off, summon some spirit guardians, and then shoot lightning at them from one of the cliffs. Rook could tell that Emmrich and Bellara were getting tired, as the two of them stayed behind her, shooting offensive spells when they could but as Rook was the only one with a sword, it was up to her to go in for the kill. 

Finally, there was an opening, and Rook took it. Mythal crashed to the ground, exposing the soft underside of the dragon, and Rook raced forward, her legs screaming at the effort. She threw her shield with the greatest effort she could muster, imbuing it with magic as she did so, and the shield embedded itself into the dragon’s chest, making it roar in pain. Rook quickly followed, gripping her sword with both hands, and thrusting it into the soft part under the jaw, a bolt of electricity snaking its way up her arms as the dragon jerked, blood spraying her, but she held onto her sword, twisting it, forcing it in up to the hilt, and at last, the dragon stilled, magic still crackling in the air as the dragon form of Mythal breathed its last. 

Rook was breathing heavily, and she yanked her sword out of the dragon’s skull with a monumental effort. She retrieved her shield, and opted to toss them on the ruined snow before trying to clean them. As she sat down, propping her knees up, hands back as Emmrich and Bellara slowly made their way over, the dragon began to glow. Scrambling to her feet, Rook grabbed her weapons, but the dragon’s body began to fall away like smoke being carried off in the breeze. In its place, sitting on the ground, was a small, glowing statue, much like the wolf statuettes they had found. This one was shaped like a woman, wearing a crown like what Mythal had been wearing before Rook had stepped on it. 

“Is that…?” Bellara asked tentatively. Both of them looked terrible; one doesn’t fight a high dragon and get away unscathed. 

“Ugh.” Rook groaned, walking over to it. “I really don’t want to carry Mythal’s essence around.” She went to pick it up but recoiled from it. “Ow!! That thing is hot! ” she glared angrily at it. Even in defeat Mythal was still being a pain in the ass. 

“Perhaps I can handle it, until the necessary time.” Morrigan appeared seemingly out of thin air in front of them, startling the trio. Bellara actually squeaked . 

“Maker’s breath -” Rook was not having it today, and Emmrich snorted at her reaction. “Were…were you waiting for us? ” Morrigan looked rather smug with her entrance and the group’s reaction.

“I was observing the outcome of this fated encounter.” she said, rather dramatically, and Rook sighed, leveling the witch with a look.

 “So did you just wait for us to fight this…sister fragment of yours so you didn’t have to?” Morrigan’s eyes crinkled as she smiled at her.

“Tis true that would seem the most likely assumption.” Morrigan said, her hawk-like eyes shining with mischief but no malice. “However, when we met in Arlathan I told you that I am here to help, and that has not changed.” she gestured to the statue where it lay in the snow. “I can take the essence, and keep it safe until it is necessary to use it.” Rook glanced at Bellara and Emmrich, seeing if they had anything to say.

“I think it might be better if she takes it.” Bellara said, hopping up and down nervously. “You know, because that fight before the dragon was really really personal between you two.”

“Morrigan has given us no reason to distrust her.” Emmrich agreed. “Besides, if we keep it with us, there’s no telling what the essence might do to your state of mind, Rook.” Rook didn’t need much more convincing. 

“By all means.” Rook said, gesturing to the statue. Morrigan inclined her head, and reached for it, only for her to immediately draw her hand back as if burnt. “I said it was hot.” Morrigan chuckled as her hand glowed, lifting the statue with magic instead. 

“So you did. I had wrongly assumed that as someone else who bears a portion of Mythal’s soul it might not burn me.” Morrigan seemed rather calm about the whole situation. “One more boon, if you will-” she raised her other hand, which glowed with a distinctly white blue light, and Rook felt every injury of hers heal quietly and quickly. “The Crossroads cannot wait much longer. The Revenant of Felassan’s Betrayal awaits you.” Even though she had just been healed, Rook felt like she had been punched in the gut; again. Her last conversation with Solas replayed quickly in her mind. 

“I murdered him.” his words echoed as she heard Morrigan say something else. She could only nod. 

“Well Rook. Are we ready?” Emmrich's calm voice cut through her thoughts, and Rook nodded, cleaning the last bit of ghastly black blood off of her sword. 

“Let’s go.” Rook said, sheathing her sword and shouldering her shield. She looked at Morrigan. “Thank you.” Morrigan inclined her head in acknowledgment, and then turned into a raven and flew off. 

“When did shapeshifting witches and fighting dragon goddesses become a normal part of our day?” Bellara asked as the group headed towards a path that looked like it led back to the dock where the Caretaker would be. The Caretaker was waiting for them, its spectral form shining through the surrounding fog.

“Now you see, Shield. The gods hunger to reclaim this place.” it spoke as they approached. “Their minions scavenge what the Wolf left behind. They turn his regrets to weapons, and blight all they touch. If the Evanuris take the Crossroads, darkness will fall.” The group climbed into the boat, and the Caretaker pulled out its magical oar and began the trip towards the Converged City, where the trail for the next Revenant began. 

“What happens if the Crossroads were to fall?” Bellara asked curiously. Rook and Emmrich looked to the Caretaker, who was as emotionless as always in answering.

“The Fade flows through these ancient ways. Spirits and demons. Dreams and magic. Now, imagine all blighted." There was a moment of heavy silence as Rook imagined what could possibly happen if they were to fail. “Revenants die, yet blight persists, Shield. Finish what you have begun.” The journey was much quicker to the Converged City dock, and the group stepped out of the boat, making their way towards the tent city of spirits that had popped up. 

“It doesn’t matter how many times I come here, I am always in awe and so excited.” Bellara said, looking around at everything she could. 

“I never imagined I could be in such a place.” Emmrich agreed as a group of wisps flew overhead, chittering excitedly about something. 

“We can shop after we’ve dealt with the Revenant.” Rook said, a feeling of unease settling into her bones as they passed through the lean-to market. They turned left, heading out into what appeared to be a graveyard, and descended the steps where a few weeks ago they had fought an undead necromancer. A single wisp hovered over one of the gravestones, and when it saw the group coming it started bouncing up and down as if it had been waiting for them. 

“Hello there.” Emmrich said warmly as the wisp flew over to them, its bright blue light shining excitedly. It flew in a circle around them, chittering, and then it flew further off, down a path that Rook hadn’t seen before, and paused as though waiting.

“I think it wants us to follow it.” Rook said, and Emmrich hummed in agreement.

“Are we cold again? It got warmer and now I think the temperature is dropping. Again.” Bellara said nervously, and Rook indeed felt colder. This cold was deeper, more sinister, and she shivered despite the warming enchantments Bellara and Emmrich had cast. They followed the wisp down crumbling stone stairs, the ever present light of the Crossroads fading as they descended into what appeared to be a sprawling cave network.

“Leave it to the gods to put their evil minions in creepy caves.” Rook muttered, trying to bounce as they walked along to keep herself warm. 

“This revenant must be more powerful than the others.” Emmrich said, his voice cutting through the quiet. “Our enchantments are not working as they should.” Rook groaned loudly.

“Can nothing we do be easy?” she moaned, and the wisp they were following chittered in response. “Gee thanks, I appreciate you.” she muttered sarcastically. The wisp chittered back once more. 

They stopped going down and the path straightened out, and they came upon a large door that looked eerily similar to the ones in the Grand Necropolis. Rook and Emmrich exchanged a glance about this, but it was, after all, the Crossroads, and apparently anything went here. The wisp fluttered about the group again, spinning around Bellara three times before knocking Rook in the back of the head.

“Hey!” Rook protested, not actually angry. Bellara and Emmrich laughed at her, which seemed to please the wisp. It flew around Emmrich’s head once, and then zoomed off back the way they had come. The Caretaker materialized before them.

“Be warned.” it said, ever cryptic. “The Blight is stronger here, as is the Revenant you must face.” it faded away once more, and Rook looked at Emmrich and Bellara.

“Alright. If you two don’t want to come with me-”

“Of course we’re coming with you.” Emmrich said, almost sounding offended that she would even suggest such a thing. 

“Yeah, we’re not letting you face that thing alone.” Bellara said. Rook looked at her friends.

“But…this is Felassan.” she said, feeling her heart ache. 

“That is precisely why we will come with you.” Emmrich said gently, and Rook could have cried. 

“Come on, Rook.” Bellara said, stepping forward and placing her hands on Rook’s. “You just punched Mythal, the Protector, the All-Mother, the Queen of the Gods, Elgar’nan’s wife, in the face .” Rook snorted. 

“Repeatedly, I might add.” Emmrich added dryly, making Rook smile. Bellara smiled encouragingly at her.

“You can do this.” Rook nodded, swallowing nervously. Rook exhaled, and Bellara let go of her as she turned to face the door again. 

“Alright.” She said, stepping forward. “Let's put my old friend to rest.” She pushed open the doors, and they stepped inside. The raging blight tear was high above them, and there was a throne in the far side of the cave. On it sat a very large, currently quiet skeleton, but as they crossed into the center of the cave, Rook felt the stirring of magic and bitterness. 

“Be ready.” Emmrich warned, his staff already glowing with his magic, Bellara drawing her magical bow in tandem. As Rook drew her sword and shield, the skeleton burst into life, its body covered in large armor, carrying a lance and a shield as big as it was. It shrieked something unintelligible, the blast of magic from it causing a burst Of wind to hit Rook in her face, blowing her hair back. The Revenant rose, taller than Emmrich even, and it leapt from its throne, lance swinging downwards. 

The fight was earnest and intense. Rook dodged, parried, rolled, and flung her shield at the Revenant as much as she could, finding it safer to stay at a distance than to try to swoop in and attack close. As Bellara’s spell caused a crack to appear in its shield, it raised its lance, another burst of magic coursing out from it, and it became encased in a magical red barrier as other skeletal warriors emerged from the ground to fight them.

“It's healing itself!” Rook yelled, ignoring the skeleton that came close to her, opting instead to sprint towards the Revenant to start hammering her sword away at the shield it had created around itself. 

“Rook-!” Bellara’s voice was high, And Rook swung around, seeing Bellara getting cornered. Emmrich was trying to inch closer to her but-

“On it!!” Rook yelled, and with her sword blazing she cut down the skeletons that had gotten too close to Bellara. She danced through them, her sword slashing and shield slamming into whatever it could. As the last skeleton fell, the Revenant cried out again, whatever cracks and breaks that had formed had been healed while they dealt with the other skeletons. 

“Shit.” Rook muttered. “Just keep moving! We can't let it heal itself again!” She yelled, and Emmrich and Bellara nodded, sending a spear of magic at the Revenant at the same time, creating a small explosion. The explosion didn't seem to faze it much, and it let loose a guttural cry. 

“For the Wolf!!” Rook felt her heart turn to ice, hearing the voice as the Revenant emerged from the smoke, none the worse for wear. The voice was different, corrupted, but it was unmistakable. 

It was Felassan. 

She grit her teeth, and went after the Revenant with renewed determination. 

The fight dragged on. Explosions, magic, fire, ice, lightning, everything they had thrown at Mythal they threw at the Revenant. 

“Now!!” Bellara yelled, and Rook dove. She drove her sword into the chest of the Revenant, and it was as if time slowed down. The animated skeleton froze, the vicious light in its eyes fading as it stopped, falling to its knees. Rook was breathing hard, and she drew her sword out of the skeletal ribcage, the Revenant falling over as she did so. Before it hit the ground, it evaporated into nothingness, and the Veil tear above them closed with a snap, and the air felt a little bit lighter, a little less oppressive. 

“We did it.” Rook said between breaths, looking at her friends. “Thank you.” Emmrich chuckled and Bellara was already looking around to see if there was anything of interest here. 

“Thank you.” Rook spun, and there in front of her was Felassan. He was not wearing the armor he wore in her memories, but rather he looked like he was dressed to go hiking through the woods, but the vallaslin on his face, the deep purple of his eyes, the kind smile he wore, were all him. Rook started and then stopped; he was somewhat transparent. A spirit, or a shade, then, and not him. She felt her heart break a bit more. 

“Is that-?” Bellara whispered loudly, and Rook nodded numbly, stepping forward to her very old friend. Felassan met her in the middle, and for a moment neither said anything. 

“I never thought I'd see you again.” his voice was almost like an echo, but he held his hand out to her, and Rook tentatively reached hers out in kind.  

“Oh Felassan.” Rook felt the tears well up in her eyes, her hand resting on his. He gripped her hand, his touch very much real and solid. “I am so sorry.” 

“Why are you sorry?” He said playfully, a half smile on his face. “You didn't stab me in the back.” The weight of what he was saying settled onto Rook's shoulders, settled into her bones and her very being. She took a rattled breath, the tears spilling over. “Reva, Rook, whatever you go by now.” She met his gaze once more. “We followed him because we believed in him.” She let out a choking sob, and he squeezed her hand. He stepped into her space, and took her other hand in his, resting his forehead against hers gently. “I awoke in a world with the Veil, but a world without the Evanuris.” He said quietly, closing his eyes. “And that was enough.” The tears came unbidden, fat hot tears rolling down her cheeks as she cried silently, at the death of her friend, at the fact that Solas had stabbed him in the back to kill him, at the entire situation she found herself in. She cried, unhindered, and she felt Felassan's magic weave around her like a comforting blanket, the final embrace of a lifelong friend. 

“You must find a way to get through to him.” He said, pulling back and meeting her gaze once more. “If anyone can, if anyone has a chance, it is you.” She gave a small nod, trying to stem her tears. He leaned forward, and pressed his lips against her forehead, which made her cry a bit more. It was so tender, so loving, and he pulled away, a sad but resigned look on his face. “Perhaps one day, we will all meet again, and we can laugh about this like we used to.” 

“I hope so.” she whispered, and then she hugged him, throwing her arms around his neck, and squeezing him as hard as she could. He wasn’t warm like a person, but he was solid enough. He was startled, but relaxed into her hug, hugging her back, dipping his head into her shoulder, a small chuckle escaping him. 

“You ruined how dramatic I was being.” He said playfully, and she barked out a laugh, still feeling the tears come. 

“Someone has to.” She said, her voice thick with emotion. They pulled away, and Rook began to wipe away the tears, taking a step back. 

“Until we meet again.” Felassan said, placing his hands behind his back in a way that reminded her so much of Solas it hurt. 

“Until we meet again.” She said sadly, trying to smile. Felassan nodded to Emmrich and Bellara, and then turned as if to walk away, his form fading away into tiny particles of glowing blue lights that drifted up, and finally disappeared all together.

“Rook…” Bellara trailed off, probably not sure what to say, and Rook couldn't blame her. What a weird situation they were in. Where Felassan's spirit had stood, a small, glowing orb appeared, similar to the previous two essences they had collected from the other Revenants. Rook reached out to it, and grabbed it. It was cold, and she shoved it into the pouch on her hip. 

“I don't know about you guys but I am beat. ” Rook said wearily, stretching. “Let's go back to the Lighthouse, take a bath, drink some coffee, and sleep for three days. We deserve it.” 

“We probably don't have time for a three day nap.” Emmrich said lightly, and Rook pouted at him.

“A girl can dream.” 

…

Upon their return to the Lighthouse, no one else was back yet. Rook did precisely as she had said: had a shower, had some coffee and food, and then she went to her room. She stepped into her room, the quiet of the Lighthouse unnerving in its own way. She changed into something loose, just a simple tunic that went down to her thighs, and undid her hair. She had fought a goddess and a Revenant today, won, and she was quite tired.

Rook slipped into sleep easily enough, but she didn’t open her eyes to the Fade prison. She opened her eyes to the seaside cottage of Reva’s, the distant sound of the ocean hitting the cliffs below her. As she began to move, she realized this was a memory, as she absolutely wanted to stay in the bed but Reva was up and moving, and Rook was being dragged along for the ride. 

Rook tried to shut her eyes, to black it out because all she wanted to do was sleep. But the pull of Reva moving kept her blinking back awake. Before too long she realized Reva was painting something on the wall. She took a moment to look at it and her mouth fell open. 

The murals were everywhere. Images of Solas’s life and rebellion littered them, the rise of the Evanuris, the fall of the Titans, his rebellion that spanned centuries, another one that showed her walking away from him, the shield between them on the ground, and the one Reva was working on. It looked almost like a wish; in a field of flowers, Reva and Solas stood facing each other, staring. The colors were not all finished, and neither were the shapes, but Reva was utterly focused in her work, a skillful hand that with a slight touch of magic gave the figures and colors just enough glow to make it seem more like the reflection of water than a wall. 

“Where am I in these paintings of yours?” Rook spun; Felassan was standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, looking entirely too pleased to point out something that was clearly missing. Reva jumped, having not heard him, and she laughed softly. It must have been some time since the incident with the shield dropping. 

“You’re there!” she said with a mischievous grin. “Here-” she pointed to a small, round yellow blob in the corner with two purple dots for eyes that looked so comically out of place in the tapestry she was painting. Felassan looked entirely unamused, making Reva laugh all the more. 

“Worth it, to see your face.” she said, putting her brush down to stand to meet him. 

“I swear, sometimes-” he said, shaking his head, a half smile forming on his face as he joined in with her good humor. 

“What brings you here, Felassan?” Reva asked abruptly but not unkindly. She was watching him as if he were a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and for a moment, he almost looked the part. “I am always glad to see you, but it has been…” she trailed off, her eyes darting to the wall where the murals danced. 

“It’s been a long time, I know,” he said wearily. “You wanted me to tell you when he was going to make his move.” Reva stilled, and Rook could see the tension in her shoulders as her eyes met his. 

“When will it be?” she asked quietly, and Felassan sighed.

“A week from tomorrow.” he said, his brow furrowed. “Solas has given his commands.”

“Commands.” Reva sneered, her face contorting at the word. “As a general or as a god ?” Rook could feel the anger and irritation at Solas spike, and Felassan looked at Reva as if she were a wounded animal. 

“He is not a god.” Felassan said wearily, rubbing the back of his neck as though he has had this conversation many times before with others. “Nor does he claim to be.”

“He is still not himself, Felassan.” Reva said, her voice turning soft again. She gestured to her small kitchen area, where a simple table and some chairs were. Felassan inclined his head in thanks, and Reva took a moment to get them some glasses of water. After she had given Felassan his, she sat down opposite him, her hands gripping her cup probably a little bit too tightly. 

“I would agree.” Felassan said quietly, gazing at the water in his glass before he took a sip of it. “We are out of options though.” he sounded defeated, as only one who has been fighting for far too long can sound. “He won’t tell anyone precisely what he’s planning, but he is going to go alone, and the most I can get out of him is that he ‘probably won’t come back’ or some other melodramatic drivel.” Reva’s chest tightened, and Rook responded in kind. Reva’s feelings were her feelings, and for a moment it felt like she couldn’t breathe. “Of course, I didn’t come all the way here just to deliver you bad news.” Reva’s eyes met Felassan’s. “I can give you a location and a way to get inside and blend in, if that is truly what you still wish to-”

“Yes.” Reva breathed before Felassan could finish. Felassan set his mouth in a line, and sighed.

“Are you certain?” he asked gently, and before Reva could respond he continued, “I am asking because you have been here, for a century, without him.” Rook could barely comprehend waiting that long for someone. She got impatient if someone was late by five minutes. “And…” Felassan paused, as if he was unsure he should continue, but he took a breath, and looked her in the eyes, his gaze searching hers. “As your second oldest friend, since I know Solas is the first, I would hate for you to throw your life away because of him.”

“I would not be throwing my life away.” Reva said indignantly, her cheeks warming at Felassan’s implication. “I would be there to protect him.”

“What makes his life worth more than yours?” Felassan argued. “He abandoned you. He used you. Just as Mythal used him.” Felassan’s mouth snapped shut, closing his eyes, pain flickering across his face as he realized what he had said. “Ir abelas, I am sorry. That was…”

“Accurate?” Reva said quietly, fidgeting a bit more. "Truthful?"

“No, I-” Felassan groaned, opening his eyes to look at her again. “He and I have fought about it once or twice.” he admitted, looking away. Reva wasn't sure what to say to that.

“Only once or twice?” Reva asked after a moment, her tone playful. Felassan's ear twitched slightly in reply as he scowled, focusing on something on the floor.

“Only once a week or so these days.” He grumbled, looking a bit embarrassed. “I know I don't have the same connection the two of you do.”

“Did.” Reva said quietly, taking a sip of her water, its coolness flowing out inside her to help calm her nerves. 

“Do.” He argued, dragging his hand across his face in exasperation. He turned his face to look at her again. Reva found herself smiling; she had missed Felassan. She had missed his friendship and his conversations. “He won’t admit it to anyone, of course. You know how he is, dramatic and grim and fatalistic.” Reva snorted. “But I know him. And I know you.” 

“And?”

“I guess I had hoped that maybe you wouldn’t be so ready to jump into harm’s way for him again.” Felassan admitted, looking down. “Perhaps once, when we were younger, the rebellion was new, and he wasn’t so cold and calculating.”

“When he still had fire in his eyes.” Reva remembered, so Rook did as well. Felassan allowed himself to smile slightly.

“Well, clean your stuff up. Or don’t, doesn’t matter to me.” Felassan said, standing up, and Reva watched him, slightly confused. “If you’re going to go to Satinalia in Arlathan’s palace, we will need to find you something to wear.” Rook was slightly confused by the flurry of emotions that raced through Reva.

“S-Satinalia?” she asked nervously, “In the Golden Halls?” Felassan nodded.

“Everyone will be there.” he said, holding his hand out to her. Reva considered a moment, and she placed her hand in his, letting him help her up. “Well. Everyone we’ve been trying to kill, anyway.” he said with a smug grin.

“To Arlathan?” she said gently, and Felassan nodded, gripping her hand tightly.

“To Arlathan.”

-.-.-.

Rook woke with a start, the memory as a dream still very vivid in her mind. She rubbed her eyes. These constant mixings of memories was wearing on her, and it felt like she hadn’t been asleep but maybe ten minutes.

Are you alright? Solas’s voice was quiet, grounding, and despite herself she felt her breath quicken, her heart skipping slightly.

“Just…remembering.” she muttered. She wasn’t sure if she liked Solas being this active in her mind. There was a silence as he contemplated.

What did you remember? His voice did things to her. He sounded genuinely curious, but she knew him, and the game he played. It twisted her heart to know it. She almost replied, but something stopped her.

Will you not tell me? His voice was lower, almost a murmur, but she could feel the slightest hint of sadness from him. She drew her knees into her chest, hugging her legs. She wanted to. She wanted to tell him everything. 

“I remembered Felassan.” she whispered, and there was stillness in her mind. “He was our friend-no, he was our brother .” her throat constricted as her emotions threatened to spill over. “You killed him. I had to kill the Revenant that took his spirit.” A jolt of something that felt like despair and regret lit through her, but it was gone just as quickly. Solas was doing a damn good job of controlling his feelings. “Why?” she asked, and there was no answer. “Fine, keep your secrets.” she spat out angrily, rolling back over to try to actually get some sleep. “You always do.” she muttered. Solas did not answer her, and she tossed and turned for a bit before falling into a restless sleep. 

Chapter Text

Rook felt she should tell everyone what was going on with her and Solas. She had sat and thought and ruminated after waking, waiting on the others to return from their respective missions she had sent them on. She sent for Morrigan, because she might need her help explaining a few things, and then she gathered the group in the dining room to tell them about her past life.

“This is how I see it.” Rook said, the table quiet as everyone but Bellara and Emmrich looked stunned. “The Mythal we fought in the Crossroads is the same one that was murdered way back when, and so was a total bitch. No offense Morrigan.” Morrigan chuckled, standing off to the side idly.

“None taken.” she said, her tone laced with amusement. “I would be inclined to agree with you.”

“The bit of Mythal that Morrigan carries inside of her, has had centuries upon centuries living amongst mortals to mellow out and learn what we call ‘patience’ and ‘compassion’.” Rook continued. “And, she apologized to me for the stuff Mythal did to Reva and Solas.”

“So how does you being a spirit reborn have to do with that?” Davrin asked, his wood carving forgotten on the table.

“I keep seeing memories, deeper …memories of events where Solas is concerned.” she said, trying to find the words. 

“Reva was known as the Shield of the Dread Wolf.” Morrigan stepped in thankfully. “She was, in essence, his knight protector. Not that he needed one, but Wisdom and Passion as spirits exist as two sides of each other. Passion without wisdom to give it shape and direction is as empty as wisdom without passion to give it power and purpose.” she looked fondly at Rook. “The Shield and the Slow Arrow of the Dread Wolf were his two most trusted confidantes, generals, and friends. I only see the memories of Mythal, fragmented ones at that, but the ancient elves called the type of connection that Solas and Reva share as Vhenan'ara.” Rook felt something in her chest stir at those words. Rook's mind spun even as Morrigan continued speaking-

“Solas?” They were sitting on a grassy hilltop, the rolling hills spread out before them. Their shoulders kept brushing, and Reva felt her face burn from the closeness.

“Hm?” He answered, not looking at her. He was enjoying the quiet, and the companionship, without any pressure or responsibility weighing on him. She loved him in this moment; as she loved him always. He was so beautiful when he was untroubled by the burdens that were placed upon him by others, and those moments were becoming fewer and farther between. 

“We'll always be friends, won't we?” Her voice was small, and Solas looked at her, meeting her eyes.

“What's on your mind lethallin?” He asked, nudging her with his shoulder. Reva bit her lip, and felt her hands clench the grass beneath them. 

“Would you promise me that we will always be friends? No matter what happens?” She looked away; his gaze was always too intense for her.

“Reva…” she couldn't help the gasp that escaped her as his hand came up to her face, his touch Feather light as he gently took her chin, turning her face to his. She was on fire, every sense on high alert at his proximity, and she hated how she became a nervous mess whenever he got too close. “I will promise, if you tell me why you want me to.” His voice was kind, gentle even, and she swallowed nervously as she gave the barest of nods. It was almost as if he knew the effect he had on her, and simply enjoyed seeing her reactions, because the slightest glint of mischievousness was in his eyes, the slightest of smiles on his beautiful face. He gently let her chin go, but not before allowing his fingers to trace the line of her throat, and she felt like she might spontaneously combust if it were possible.

“I am scared of what Elgar’nan and Mythal say we must do.” She said quietly. “I am…” she hesitated, and decided to be bold, leaning into him just a bit more, meeting his gaze, trying to be confident although her heart was pounding in her chest, her stomach doing flops as her whole body was hot just by being near him. “I am afraid of losing you.” She had not meant for her voice to shake, and her words seemed to throw him off guard momentarily. “I am afraid of not just losing you in battle, but…to the powers that claim to guide us.” She said, focusing on the stormy sea blue irises staring back at her. For a moment Solas said nothing. He was clearly mulling over her words, and the horrible vallaslin on his face distracted her momentarily. He finally exhaled, and gave her a sad smile. 

“Reva-”

“Please.” She cut him off, backing off slightly. “I have never asked you for anything, and I will follow you forever if you ask me. All I wish for now, is simply a promise that you and I will always be friends, as we were as spirits once, and as we are now.” For a moment Solas said nothing. His magic brushed against hers, and she shivered involuntarily as he seemed to be thinking deeply about what she was asking. 

“Why is this so important to you?” He asked, his tone laced with amusement. He had leaned back, his left leg propped up, his left arm resting on his knee. His right hand came up to her face again, and he brushed some of her hair out of her face. It was almost as if he knew the answer, but was daring her to say it. 

“I have seen how the others have become corrupted, and have strayed.” She said, trying to say it without saying it, how deeply she cared for him. “I would like to think that no matter how far we go, or how long it's been, that we would always find our way back together.” She said quietly, her hands folded in her lap, her cheeks burning. She thought for a moment, and looked at him once more. “I vow to you, Vhenan'ara-”

“Reva.” His voice was sharp, cutting her off. He shifted, moving closer, and took her hands in his. “Do not bind your spirit to me.” His voice trembled slightly, and Reva smiled gently at him, her heart swelling for him. “Do not make this promise lightly.” He was quiet, his eyes cast down at her hands, his brow furrowed, the striking lines of the vallaslin accentuating his features beautifully, and for a moment Reva forgot that they were slave markings. 

“I vow to you, Vhenan'ara,” she began again, his eyes meeting hers once more, her voice layered with intent, and Solas's gaze was beyond intense, but she held it even as her heart pounded against her chest, “In sal'shiral i've'an din.” As she spoke, she felt the magic binding her spirit to his far beyond what they already were. As complimentary spirits they had always had a deeper connection than most, but now the love she felt for him felt tethered in a way that extended beyond herself. The magic was gentle, twirling, and Solas sat there, wide eyed, watching her as the vow she made settled between them as she willingly gave him her heart. 

“Why?” His voice was low, thick with emotion, and his eyes searched hers, confused that she would do such a thing.

“You know why." she said quietly, not quite ready to say it yet. "I choose you.” She said, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. “I will follow you in life, and beyond death.” He pondered a moment, and Reva felt her heart ache. As the silence between them stretched on, she couldn’t help the gnawing anxiety in her chest and stomach, and the only noise was the gentle caress of the wind in the grass. 

“I do not deserve your vow.” Solas murmured, his voice sounding grief stricken. They sat in the grass together, holding each other’s hands, and she moved so that her legs were tucked beneath her to better see and talk to him. 

“It is not about what you deserve.” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I give myself to you freely because I wish to be by your side, even if I cannot truly be.” the last part she said more to herself, but she knew Solas heard her. Longing glances and lingering touches for years had done nothing to ease her want, and she knew that even if he did not feel the same, she would take those moments and hold them dear to her heart. She kept her gaze closer to the freckles dusting his cheeks, barely visible beneath the curve of the vallaslin. 

“You do not have to return it.” she said gently, feeling her heart break ever so slightly as he continued to only stare at her in disbelief, as if he couldn’t figure out what to say back to her.

“I cannot do this to you.” he sounded broken, and she shifted forward just a bit more. “I…I cannot, not how-” he cut himself off, looking away, but she knew what he was referring to. 

“You do not want me to be like how you are with Mythal.” she said, understanding his silence. Solas did not look at her, but his jaw tightened slightly. “I know.” she drew a hand away from his, and leaned forward to touch his cheek. Startled, he looked at her, and getting on her knees she leaned forward, glancing at his lips, wanting to kiss him-

She placed a light kiss on his cheek, her lips lingering ever so slightly as she took in the warmth of him, the smoothness of his skin, the barely contained power he hid away so well. She drew away, trembling ever so slightly, her hands still in his, and he looked so torn it broke her heart.

“Solas.” she said quietly; once more his brow was furrowed, and she felt guilty. “I am so sorry, we were out here enjoying the quiet and I had to bring up my feelings-” 

“Do not apologize.” He said, cutting her off. He was very focused on where their hands still touched. You are my oldest, and dearest friend.” He took a deep breath. “It is alright for you to discuss your emotions with me.” 

“I do not wish to burden you further.” She whispered. “Forget I mentioned it.”

“I cannot forget the vow you just made, lethallin.” His voice was sharp, almost angry at her. She understood why but it hurt all the same. “You have sworn your spirit to me. That cannot be taken back. It is more than even what I have given to Mythal.” He drew his hands away, not looking at her. “I am not worthy of such devotion.”

Rook shook herself, the memory exceptionally vivid and she felt her face flush as Morrigan finished explaining that Reva and Solas had exchanged the vows of Vhenan’ara. The memory had ended abruptly before she had been brought back to the Lighthouse, and Rook did not hear Solas say the words back to her. Perhaps he had done so later, after his rebellion had started. She was sure she would find out eventually. 

“So I guess the real question is, do we trust Solas?” Neve asked, and everyone pointedly looked at Rook. Rook pursed her lips, her eyebrows raising.

“Oh absolutely not.” she said, feeling a stab of pain in her heart even as she said it. “I have no doubt he’s trying to find a way out of his prison, and his final goal is to bring down the Veil. He’s helping us right now because Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain are a threat to everyone, including him.”

“So he’s not just helping you because you two did it in the Fade?” Taash asked, earning them a smack from Lucanis. “What? It’s a valid question!”

“Firstly we are not ‘doing it’ in the Fade.” Rook said, pinching the bridge of her nose-

“Say that to the hickey on your neck.” Davrin said, and Rook groaned, earning a round of chuckles from the table. Taash high fived Davrin. Morrigan looked less than amused. 

“He is exceptionally charming and seductive when he wants to be, okay?” Rook said, exasperated, trying to hide her grin. 

“Rook, I want you to know that I love you dearly.” Taash said, looking at her, “But he is bald .” Neve snorted, and Lucanis couldn’t hide his smile behind his coffee any more. Rook opened and closed her mouth like a fish.

“I will have you know that bald men can still be very attractive.” she said, feeling her cheeks flush, and it looked like Davrin and Harding couldn’t take much more of the teasing. They were holding their sides, laughing as Rook felt her ears begin to burn. 

“If you all are quite finished.” Morrigan said, her voice carrying the sure tone of a mother who was quite done with her children that made the group quiet instantly. “I hope this has been helpful. If we are done, I shall take my leave and return to Arlathan.” 

“I think we’re good.” Rook muttered, shooting a glare at Davrin as he made an obscene hand gesture that made Harding snort derisively into her cup. Morrigan rolled her eyes and strode out of the room. “Davrin, you are a child.”
“And you’re fucking a bald-” A plate hit him squarely in the jaw, knocking his seat backwards and causing him to fall to the ground, causing the table to erupt once more. 

-.-.-

Several days passed. Rook did not see Solas in her dreams, nor did he speak to her. Which was fine, because she didn’t want to talk to him anyway. He brought up seriously confusing emotions and memories that Rook was almost beginning to believe were better left forgotten. Luckily, there was plenty going on to keep her distracted. Between finding out more about the Gloom Howler with Davrin, hunting down another evil blood mage with Neve, stopping an insane necromancer with Emmrich, fighting the leader of the Antaam in a volcano with Taash, and trying to help Bellara keep it together while they learned that her brother was working with Anaris (a Forgotten One of the Dalish, who by all accounts, decided turning his people into demons was the way to freedom so in other words, was really bad. period.), Rook had been busy. 

Today, her, Emmrich, and Harding were making their way to go check on a dwarven patrol in the mountains. Rook wondered why Solas had felt the need to bring an Eluvian here, to an abandoned dwarven mining outpost far out in the mountains. As they descended the ancient stops, she barely heard Emmrich and Harding talking about the patrol as she stared at the landscape before them.

The mountain…it looked almost like a person. Like they had been caught mid yell, their hands stretched out as if one final cry of pain had frozen it in place. It looked eerily similar to the mural Solas had painted of when he had taken the Titans dreams, and she understood. This was the body of a Titan before them. .

The mountains were quiet. Rook couldn’t help the unease growing in her as they made their way into an old mining shaft, fighting off undead as they hit a floor. Harding released another dwarf that had been trapped in the rocks. The dwarf said that they had heard someone weeping, and that they had then been stuck inside the rocks, unable to move or see. 

“Let’s go.” Harding said, and Rook followed. They discovered more dwarves trapped inside rocks, fighting off hordes of demons as they did so. Rook was thankful but surprised at the lack of darkspawn in the area. Then, they saw the lyrium.

As a Mourn Watcher, Rook had attended many autopsies, had intricate knowledge of the dead and anatomy in general. The lyrium she had seen in other parts of the world looked just as other rocks, albeit more along the crystalline form. Here, the lyrium looked like veins. Large, branching, tree-like veins that roped and spun their way across the top of the caverns, through the rocks, emerging into another chamber as they followed Harding deeper into the mountain. As they seemed to draw closer to whatever was calling Harding, the lyrium turned red.

“Red lyrium. Wonderful.” Rook muttered, as if this place wasn’t already bad. She had a terrible, gnawing feeling at the back of her mind, as if she were forgetting something important, something about the Titans, and it was irritating because she knew Solas probably knew (but she wasn’t about to ask him). The cavern opened up, and the red lyrium was everywhere , the hum almost like a buzzing noise in her mind that was beginning to turn into a whine. Her head was starting to hurt.

Harding freed Stalgard from the last rock, and then took off running into the space left. Emmrich and Rook followed close behind. Rook almost stumbled as she saw what was here in the central cavern. It appeared as if they were in a rib cage, and what was unmistakably a heart made of solid lyrium hung above them in the center of the ceiling, angry red lyrium branching out around it, encapsulating the area. 

“Have you created what we need?” Mythal’s voice was sickeningly sweet, and Reva flinched. She was hiding outside of the tent, eavesdropping on the conversation between Mythal and Solas. Reva hated the woman with a passion. She was one of the only ones in the army without vallaslin, despite Solas asking time and again if she would take Mythal’s. Each and every time, Reva would say no. As one without vallaslin however, she had to exercise more caution when eavesdropping this way, as she did not blend in quite as well as others. Especially since she was usually seen at Solas’s side, who was almost always with Mythal. 

“Yes.” Solas sounded absent, and Reva knew his heart was not in it. “With this, the proper ritual will sunder every Titan from its spirit.” He drew a breath before continuing. “But you must know those severed dreams will certainly be driven mad. A disembodied blight of pain and anger.” He paused, as if he was waiting for Mythal to say something. When she didn’t, he continued. “It…is… awful , what we’re doing.” he sounded broken, and Reva felt his pain almost as if it were her own. 

“And the only way to end this war.” Mythal said, as if that made it better. 

“Mythal-” it sounded like he was going to argue but she cut him off.

“Enough.” her voice was sharp, losing the previous sweetness. Reva controlled her breathing, standing as still as she could, her hands over her mouth as she listened in. “You will do this because I ask it of you.”

“You would have me do this so it is not on your conscience.” Solas’s rebuttal was quick, and so was the ensuing slapping noise that echoed around them. Mythal had struck him, and Reva felt her blood ignite. 

“I would have you do this because I am your queen, and I will be obeyed.” Reva felt a surge of Mythal’s power, and heard a thumping noise as Solas was driven to his knees. She didn’t have to see it to know that’s what was happening. “Oh my love.” Reva ground her teeth together, knowing Mythal strikes him, buries him, and then eases him back out with falsely sweet nothings. “Only you can do this. I would trust it to no one else.” Reva wanted to scream, to burst into the tent to punch Mythal in her perfectly stupid face, but she heard Solas release an exhale, probably since Mythal had finished burning him through the vallaslin on his face. 

And he wondered why she didn’t want it. 

“I will do this, my queen.” his voice was low, and Reva could detect the brokenness he tried to hide.

“I know you will not disappoint me. It is the only way.” Mythal’s footsteps sounded as she headed for the front of the tent. “Elgar’nan and myself will go ahead with the army. Find your shield and make her do some of the work.”

“You know I cannot-”

“She vowed herself to you, didn't she?” Mythal’s voice carried a wicked tone, lashing out like a whip. “Make use of her.” With that, Mythal left the tent, her footsteps fading as the horns sounded around the camp, signaling it was time to march. Reva waited, straining to listen for Solas. She wanted to run to him, to comfort him, but-

She heard him weeping. She would allow him his dignity, and wait until he could breathe again.

Fighting the shade of the Titan wasn’t anything to sneeze at, but climbing up to Harding as she was enveloped in a vortex of ancient magic that seethed with anger was no walk in the park either.

“I remember all of it! Everything the Evanuris did to the Titans!” Harding screamed. Rook struggled to get closer, the force of the magic almost overwhelming. “And now the world will remember!” Harding’s eyes changed from glowing blue to glowing red. 

“You’re Lace Harding! You’re more than this rage!” Rook yelled, stepping closer slowly. “You are more than what came before! You believe that the world is beautiful! That people are good! Hold on to it! Hold on to who you are!” Rook managed to get close enough as Harding put her hands to her eyes, the blue and red vortex swirling angrily around them. Rook hugged Harding, holding her close. Harding needed this compassion as much as she did. 

“You took everything from us, and you thought you won .” Rook felt a stirring in her mind, as if Solas heard her. She hoped he did. “But we’re still here.” Emmrich came up as well, holding the two of them. “We’re different, but we’re not gone. We will thrive -in spite of you.” Rook hoped whatever fragment of the Mythal might hear that, heard it, because after witnessing that latest memory, she wanted to punch the woman in the face all over again. As Harding finished speaking, the magic subsided, and the tremors in the earth stopped. Emmrich and Rook pulled away from Harding, and Rook looked at her friend. Harding was breathing heavily, but otherwise seemed fine. 

“Are…we good to go?” Rook asked gently. 

“Yes.” Harding breathed, looking at her. “Let’s go.” 

Chapter Text

It had been just over a week since her last talk with Solas. She hadn’t needed to speak to him, and he deigned to not speak with her. She was sort of okay with him not talking to her, otherwise she would probably bring up the Vhenan’ara vow and get shut down or dismissed and she wasn’t sure she could handle that rejection. A part of her, the part that remembered being Reva, was restless, wanted to hear his voice again as soon as she could. The part of her that was uniquely Rook, however, was stubborn to a fault, and perhaps she and Reva were exactly the same. She knew she would hear from him again, because they had yet to kill either Elgar’nan or Ghilan’nain.

Today though they found themselves going deeper into Arlathan forest. They were hunting some Venatori who were causing some trouble for a local Dalish tribe that had decided to camp there. Rook loved Arlathan forest. To her, walking under its branches of gold, greens, and silvers, she felt like she was home. Magic was everywhere, and one could see it in the floating ruins, the way water flowed backwards in some places (or in the air in others), and artifacts appearing everywhere, so much so that the Veil Jumpers were stretched thin trying to contain them as they acted sporadically and usually dangerously. 

Rook loved old ruins as well; anything having to do with history or learning she was always excited to explore or learn. Especially in this place that had once been the capital of the Elvhen empire, where whispers of the past lingered in every shadow and rock. She wasn’t given a chance to treasure hunt today though; they had people to save. Rook, Lucanis, and Bellara were in the process of cutting down every Venatori they came across. Burned aravels and scorched halla corpses littered the clearings they came upon, and with each body they found Rook grew more incensed. 

They finally came upon one Dalish elf; she had been hidden behind a magical barrier, thrust there by a Veil Jumper who had died protecting her from Venatori.

“Do you know where they’re taking everyone?” Rook asked, knowing time was of the essence.

“I…I don’t know.” the woman said, still shaking. “Their leader said they need Dalish blood. Some sort of sacrifice!”

“This just got a whole lot worse. We need to find out where they’ve gone.” Rook said, and Bellara and Lucanis nodded, and the group began searching this latest area that looked as if it had been some sort of forward camp. 

“What is this? Glass?” Lucanis asked, holding up a strange shard. Bellara and Rook rushed over and Irelin and Strife showed up.

“Glass?” Bellara asked, grabbing the shard to examine it closely. “Wait…there’s a crater nearby.”

“So?” Lucanis asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Sooo thousands of years ago, blood magic destroyed that area. All that energy? Turned the sand to glass.” Rook felt a discomforting feeling in her stomach as Bellara spoke. She was beginning to recognize when Reva’s memories were going to appear and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to see any more. “They must have taken the Dalish to the crater.”

“We got here as fast as we could.” Strife said, and Rook looked at him.

“The Venatori are kidnapping Dalish to sacrifice them.” Rook spat out. Irelin gasped. “But we have a chance to stop it.”

-.-.-.

“Well?” Rook asked Strife as they looked down at the gathering Venatori. 

“They’re waiting for something. Or someone. We’ve heard them talking about sacrifices, so whatever is happening, it’ll probably happen soon.” Strife said. “The tracks suggest that the captives are on the other side of the clearing. You’ll have to go through the crowd, there’s not really a way to get around without going all the way around the lake, which takes all day, and by then it could be too late.” Rook groaned internally.

“They’re gathering to watch people be killed?” Rook asked, disgusted.

“It’s the Venatori.” Neve answered from Strife’s left. “Spilling blood is their religion.”

“Have I mentioned I hate cultists today?” Rook muttered. “So, through them?”

“It’s quickest.” Strife said. “I found you some disguises.” Rook took one last scathing look at the small horde of cultists below them and made a disgusted noise. 

About fifteen minutes later, she and her team were all stuffed into Venatori robes. 

“Is this…sticky? Why is it sticky? ” Bellara asked, holding out her sleeve in horror.

“It’s blood.” Strife said. “Hopefully.” Bellara gagged. “Make sure you split up. You don’t want to draw attention.” 

“Neve, you’re with me.” Rook said, turning to her friend. “You know the Venatori best, and you’re probably the only one who can convince them you belong there.” Neve chuckled humorlessly.

“I hate that you’re right.”

“Bellara will come with me and the other Veil Jumpers. We’ll try to keep the escape routes clear. Get in, get the Dalish, and get out.” Strife said. Rook, Neve, and Emmrich made their way down the cliffside, and Rook couldn’t keep her eyes off the ruins around them.

Here, in the heart of the forest, far from any would be treasure hunters and scavengers, most of the Elvhen ruins remained standing. Aside from the huge crater to their left where a lake had formed, this area had to have been an enormous complex or part of the city. The spires of many tiered buildings still shone with the brushed gold of ages past, the towers and turrets defying gravity in a way Rook hadn’t thought possible.

“I wish we could stay and just… look .” Rook muttered as they drew closer to the entrance of the camp the Venatori had set up. Tevinter banners hung from archways, and Venatori were everywhere . Men and women, all dressed in red and black, some talking excitedly, others whispering off by themselves, but all of them were here, in the center of this huge ruin. Rook took a moment to look out over the lake, a strange feeling settling in her chest. The ruined bases of towers stood barely beneath the water’s surface, overgrown with vegetation and beginning to crumble from time and the water. As with everywhere else in Arlathan, rocks floated everywhere, bits of the ruins suspended in the sky with an unknown magic. Rook felt strangely sad but also…it was another feeling, one she couldn’t quite grasp at yet, but she was sure it had something to do with Reva’s memories. Her memories. 

“Rook?” Emmrich asked gently, bringing her back to the present.

“Yeah. Sorry. Got lost for a moment.” she said, shaking her head and turning back to the task at hand. They came upon what looked like an altar, and there was a small group of people around it, all of them craning their necks to see what was going to be brought out.

“They’re going to bleed the Dalish deer!” someone said excitedly, and Rook’s stomach churned. She closed her eyes, hearing the distressed call of a halla as some Venatori dragged the poor creature out to the altar.

“Oh no.” Emmrich whispered, horrified. Rook had to keep walking, she couldn’t watch what they were about to do or she would ruin the whole mission. She heard the halla crying out for help, it’s bleat pitiful and scared as the people around it jeered and laughed. Then, there was the sound of a blade cutting through flesh, and Rook willed herself to go faster as the crying of the halla stopped suddenly. She swallowed thickly, praying to whatever Maker there might be that she could save the Dalish elves from a similar fate. 

They kept moving, easily walking through the dense crowds. They passed by a few Venatori who were using slaves as seats, another who seemed to be delighting in chopping fingers off another. Rook grit her teeth; as if they needed another reason to end these assholes. What was worse, was that these assholes were here to support Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain, and that just damned them all the more. 

“This place makes my skin crawl.” Rook muttered to Neve as they passed by a group of Venatori who were in the middle of discussing the best way to literally pull blood from stones.

“You’re right.” Neve said quietly back to her. “These people are usually bad enough by themselves…but something is different here.”

“Could it be the concentration of ancient magics coalescing together with whatever blood magic ritual they’re going to do?” Emmrich asked helpfully. Rook and Neve looked at him.

“Maybe?” Rook said, shrugging. “Bellara said this crater was formed from a blood magic ritual thousands of years ago-” A sudden whining erupted in her head, and she hissed loudly, grasping at the left side of her head.

“Rook!” Neve whispered, and her and Emmrich hurried her off to a shadow near an archway. “What’s wrong?”

“I…I don’t-” she hissed again, closing her eyes. “Ugh not now.” she moaned, recognizing the feeling-

Her mind was reeling. Images flew in front of her closed eyes, visions of an enormous palace, the most opulent she had ever seen, with crystal spires reaching to the heavens, all of it golden and bright and blinding. Then her vision went dark, and all she saw were flashes of lightning, the roar of a storm, and unbelievable pain shot through her chest, causing her to gasp, her breathing coming in short breaths as it felt-

“Ingellvar!” Emmrich’s voice cut through her cloudy visions, and Rook was able to open her eyes barely. For a second it was too bright, but she felt steadying, warm hands on her arms, a comforting presence on either side of her. “Breathe. We are here. You are alright.” Rook focused on breathing, and slowly she was able to open her eyes again. Neve and Emmrich looked very worried. 

“What was that?” Neve asked, and Rook pressed her hand to the side of her head again, the dull throbbing a reminder of the pain.

“The beginnings of another memory.” Rook muttered. “Reva must have come here once.”

“Understandable, given the location.” Emmrich said matter of factly. 

“We don’t have time for me to go down memory lane right now.” Rook said, shaking her head, forcing any cloudy thoughts to go away. “Let’s go.” Neve and Emmrich exchanged a glance, but didn’t argue. They headed over to a lone Venatori, who looked as if he were standing guard, as the walkway behind him was empty.

“Is this elf your slave, milady?” The man was lucky he had a full face mask on, because the look Rook gave him could have killed him. Luckily, Neve was there to save his life.

“Dumat’s teeth, must I defend my entourage to every low-paid toady out here?” she spoke with authority, disdain, and it made the man stutter.

“I-I’m sorry, my lady, I was given instructions to-”

“Tell someone who gives a damn.” Neve said, shifting her weight. “Why am I still waiting? Where are the gods? When does the ritual start?” 

“G-gods? But only the lord Elgar’nan is here, and he is still preparing-”

“Useless.” Neve sold it so well, Rook would have to tell her so later. “Get out of my way.” Neve shouldered her way past the man, Rook and Emmrich on her coat tails. 

“It’s Elgar’nan, not Ghilan’nain like we expected.” she said as they walked down the stone pathway.

“Great.” Rook muttered, “At least that means fewer tentacles.” Neve rolled her eyes at the joke. They went down a flight of stairs, and passed by a dragon statue flanked by two owls, and Rook vaguely remembered it in its glory. The memory was fleeting, and faded just as quickly as it came, leaving her searching for something she wasn’t sure had been there to begin with. Then she heard a whisper.

“Did anyone else hear that?” she asked, but Neve and Emmrich said nothing. Rook continued forward, the pathway lining itself just above the lake’s surface, and this stretch of pathway was filled with people. As Rook descended another small staircase, she felt an intrusion into her mind, and it made her skin crawl.

“Da’len .” The voice was sickeningly sweet, whispering of sweet nothings, promising grandeur and honor and riches with its tone. “ Garas lasa, da’len .” It was Elgar’nan’s voice, and he was in her head. “ Dear child, you were born into obscurity, sorrow etched on your bones. I see you. I feel your pain. Ah, but you are sorrowful for another reason, are you not, Shield of the Dread Wolf?” his voice was laced with acid as he spoke her title. Rook felt her stomach plummet, and suddenly wished she had Solas there with her. 

“Don’t listen to him.” Rook warned, “He is evil and will only use you .”

“Just like how the Dread Wolf uses you even now?” Elgar’nan’s voice rang out inside her head, and she grit her teeth, his words cutting her to the bone. Here at the edge of the crowd, the rest of her team joined her, all of them looking equally unnerved. 

“For hundreds of years, you have mourned the loss of your dragon gods.” Elgar’nan’s voice echoed out around them, and Rook saw him standing not too far off on what appeared to be an exceptionally intricate dias. She felt the magic in the air shift, as magic began to move towards Elgar’nan in streams of blighted red. “From beyond the Veil, I heard your lament, and have come to deliver you from desolation.” he raised one arm as he said this, and Rook’s breathing quickened. He hadn’t been the King and All-Father of the Elves for no reason; he could sell whatever he wanted to and most would beg him for it.

“Dragon of Night, I break your chains.” Rook could hear the water of the lake splashing against the rocks. Hadn’t the water been calm- “Hear my voice and rise!” The earth shook as an enormous dragon rose behind Elgar’nan,  bursting from the waters, spraying everyone who was near with it. Taash gasped behind her; Rook’s mouth hung open. She had never seen a dragon that big, its horns a similar shape to the crown Elgar’nan wore. The dragon roared, its eyes a deep blood red, and somehow Rook remained standing. He had summoned his Archdemon. 

Fuck. 

“I am Elgar’nan, once called Lusacan, and I have returned.” Elgar’nan’s voice echoed throughout the ruins, amplified by magic, his skin a pallid gray against the sun, and the dragon behind him growled in assent at Elgar’nan’s declaration. 

“Come hither, Reva, Shield of Old, and I shall restore you to your rightful glory.” His voice was in her mind once more. “Forget the Wolf, and join me as the new All-Mother. ” Rook shook her head; there was no way -

“All you must do is obey me. Worship me. Love me. And kneel.” 

“I…I know this magic.” Bellara whispered from her right. Rook couldn’t break her gaze from Elgar’nan; his hold was too strong. “It’s old. And dangerous.” she raised her hands, her hands glowing as she tried to cast her own magic. “Mythal’enaste…it’s too strong. I can’t break it.”

“We’ve got this.” Neve said from her left, and her hands began to glow with the icy blue of her magic as she wove her spell into Bellara’s. Something like a rope snapping sounded around them, and her whole group shook, shaking off the effects of the spell.

“I’m trying to conceal us, but he’ll know someone broke his spell. We have to move. Now.” Bellara said, and Rook didn’t need to be told twice. The group pushed their way through the mind controlled cultists, and made off into an empty courtyard where they ditched their disguises and continued moving through the ruins, away from Elgar’nan and his pet.

“Venatori, there are uninvited guests among you.” Elgar’nan’s voice rang out loud and clear over the ruins, his voice echoing off the ancient stones. “Bring them to me.”

“Rook, Elgar’nan is here , we have an opportunity to-”

“No, it’s too risky.” Rook said, cutting Lucanis off. “We can’t touch him now that his Archdemon’s in play. Let’s get the Dalish and get the hell out of here.” Lucanis nodded, and then ran to catch up with the others who had split off. It wasn’t long before the Venatori caught up to them. 

The fight went the same as it usually went. Rook and company wrecked the Venatori, and even the darkspawn that the Venatori had brought with them. Neve smashed one of the last red lyrium crystals holding the door closed, and they raced forward. The ruins wrapped around away from the ritual site where Elgar’nan stood, and Rook took a moment to look at the Archdemon he had summoned. It was at least twice as big as any dragon she had seen thus far, and its fire…

“Is it…breathing blight fire?” Rook asked incredulously. 

“You know, you’d think I’d stop being surprised by things at this point.” Neve deadpanned. They continued forward, and Rook stumbled as she felt Elgar’nan’s voice in her mind once more.

“I want the interlopers at my feet!” he roared, “ Your continued failure is a disappointment to your god!”  

“Rook…” Neve’s voice carried a warning, and Rook withdrew her blade from a Venatori and looked at her.

“I don’t plan on dying today. Do you?” Neve grinned, and the fight continued. More Venatori, more darkspawn, more red lyrium crystals to smash. Rook couldn’t help but pause, trying to memorize everything about this place, but Neve and Emmrich dragged her forward. Her mind was trying to fill in the blanks, where the roof might have been, what the floors would have looked like, what it would look like if it weren’t overgrown with vines, what if there were still trinkets hidden in the piles of rubble-

“There!” Rook called, coming to the end of a crumbled archway. Across from them was what looked like it had once been a meditation tower (how did she know it was a meditation tower?),  and there were the glowing walls only created by red lyrium crystals that the Venatori so loved to use. “That must be where they’re being held!” Perhaps once, this bridge had connected this part of the ruin to the tower, but now half of the bridge lay at the bottom of the lake while the other half was suspended halfway in the air at an abrupt angle on the other side. They would have to go around to get there. 

“You have defiled my temple and spurned my offers of godhood.” Elgar’nan’s voice ripped through her mind once more, the edges of her vision going red as they continued to move as quickly as they could. “ Ah, you could have had a place of honor at my side. Ever the Dread Wolf’s bitch, I see, even in this life. ” Rook could have laughed out loud if the situation wasn’t so dangerous. She opted to ignore him, since that would probably only infuriate him more.

They came into a huge courtyard where many Venatori were waiting for them. It appeared that the others had made it there first, and were working on opening the gate that led out. Rook, Emmrich, and Neve killed the Venatori, only for the metal construct in the center of the courtyard to spring to life.

“Who made this gate?! Why is it like this?!” Lucanis yelled angrily as Rook pushed Emmrich out of the way as the diamond red lyrium monster shot a beam of blighted energy at them.

“Less talking, more fixing!” Neve called and Lucanis swore at her. She only smiled. 

The battle raged, but before long Rook realized the weak spot on the creature, and she flung her shield as hard as she could at it. The construct was cleaved in two, and fell to the ground, sparking lifelessly just as the gate opened. Lucanis stood there, clearly pleased with himself.

“See? That wasn’t so hard.” Neve said playfully as the group reunited. Lucanis quirked an eyebrow but said nothing. 

“We’ll hold off whoever else comes after you.” Taash said, nodding to Rook. “You get to the Dalish.” Rook nodded and took off. The room they entered was magnificent. The floor and the roof were broken up, with some vegetation, but it wasn’t so hard to envision what it would have looked like before. There was a massive wolf statue in the center of the stairwell, and Rook stared at it, perplexed and she, Neve, and Emmrich ran past it.

“You know for a guy who led a rebellion for over a thousand years, there sure are a lot of wolf statues everywhere.” Rook mused.

“Your fight is futile. My Venatori are legion. Surrender, and I may yet show mercy.” Elgar’nan’s voice rang out again, but Rook ignored him. Again. 

They came outside into another courtyard, and it looked as if the other side was shrouded in the mist that had been building on the far side of the lake. Rook strove headfirst into it, not thinking anything of it. 

“Wait. Something changed.” Rook said, feeling the air around them shift.

“We’ve been displaced.” Emmrich said, his voice layered with fear. “We were not here moments ago.” Rook ran forward, the world dark save for a sickly green glow that barely lit up the area around them. She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up as goosebumps erupted on her arms, and the air felt thick and heavy, like it did whenever they were near the Blight. It appeared as if they had walked into a forest, with huge elven statues looking over them, their blank faces foreboding in a way Rook couldn’t place. There were three separate paths; somehow Rook doubted that any of them led out.

“Let’s go.” she said, taking the far left one. The trail was narrow, and winding. “We still have to save the Dalish.”

“Ah, so that is what you are after. The elvhen have been chosen to serve. A glorious purpose.” Elgar’nan’s voice was louder here; her vision was more clouded with red as he spoke. As they stumbled forward, another mist enveloped them, and Rook recognized the place where they had first entered this enchantment.

“Shit.” she muttered.

“We are under a looping hermetic enchantment.” Emmrich said.

“It’s Elgar’nan. And he’s got us trapped.” Rook said, unable to hide the fear in her voice.

“The longer we stay here, the more danger we’re in.” Neve said. The three of them moved forward, this time taking the center path. Blight pools lined this path. 

“You cannot stand against me. Every action of yours is futile. My power grows, even now.” The mist enveloped them once more, spitting them back out at the entrance.

“Oh come on!” Rook yelled, infuriated.

“In this life you are nothing but an insect. Resist if you like. I have an eternity to spare. ”

“Fuck you.” Rook spat, glaring angrily at the mist around them. They raced forward, another path, more blight, and then, another cloud of mist that spat them back out in the beginning.

“Rook, can you hear me?” Rook’s heart stuttered.

“Solas?” she asked, not quite believing. “How…?” There was a moment of quiet, and she decided to move forward once more.

“We can’t get out of here.” Neve said, standing next to her.

“I thought I just heard Solas.” Rook replied, and his voice rang out in her mind once more, like a cool breeze after a scorching summer day.

“You heard correctly.” Maker she had never been more relieved to hear anyone in her entire life. “Elgar’nan’s magic has thinned the Veil, allowing me to speak to you directly. We do not have time for explanations. If you can rescue the elves, Elgar’nan is mine to face.” 

“What do you mean?” Rook asked, looking down, but then Solas shouted inside her mind.

“Elgar’nan! Lethallin! Ma banal’evanuris. Ma salin ar ghilana?”  

“Let’s keep moving, Solas is going to distract Elgar’nan. In my head, apparently.” Rook said as the three of them took off once more. 

“You are the only one with a connection to Solas.” Emmrich explained as they continued. “It makes sense that only you can hear him.”

“Fen’Harel! You have no power here!” Elgar’nan said forcefully, his words echoing in Rook’s mind, the redness creeping into the edges of her vision once more. As he spoke, however, the area in front of them changed, revealing a path forward. 

“Incredible. To bear witness to this ancient rivalry!” Emmrich said excitedly, and maybe before they had interrupted Solas’s ritual, Rook might have felt the same. Now though, she knew it was no mere rivalry.

“So the Dread Wolf has arrived to defend his pawn. How…quaint. ” Elgar’nan spoke again, and Rook found herself bristling. 

“Your cruelty forced my hand. ” Rook took note that he did not deny her being a  pawn.

“A hundred generations, and still the same refrain.” Elgar’nan’s laughter was cold and cruel.

“Again you have caged our people, and again, I will set them free. ”

“But you were always stubborn, Fen’Harel. Insubordinate. Unmanageable, even by Mythal’s reckoning.”

“You have lost the right to speak her name.” Solas snarled, and for some reason Rook felt her heart plummet. 

“Ma vallas ban! Shev gar, Fen’Harel!”

“The only reason Mythal joined you was that she knew the monster you would become if left unchecked. She thought to temper your brutish ego. Instead, you betrayed her. Murdered her.” Solas's voice was low, and laced with anger, but Elgar'nan only laughed.

“Only the first time, Dread Wolf.”

“Rook, are you alright?” Neve asked.

“I can hear them. In my head.” Rook grunted as they ran through the ruins of Elgar’nan’s trap.

“Your struggle is pointless, Reva, and your faith in the Dread Wolf is misplaced. Give up. Save yourself. Save your friends.”

Rook ran forward, and they finally emerged into sunlight. 

“You should be near where you need to be. With luck, you can still save the elves.” Solas’s voice echoed in her mind again, and she couldn’t help the spike of irritation she felt. He hadn’t denied her being a pawn, but he had fiercely defended Mythal. Had Reva ever been enough? Would she ever be enough?

She pushed open the courtyard door, filing those thoughts away to fling at Solas later. The outer rim of this courtyard had fallen into the lake, and there were many Venatori here as well. 

“Let’s cut through these guys and get the Dalish out of here.” Rook said, brandishing her weapons and leaping from the ledge, knocking down some of the Venatori while she did so. It felt good to hit something, to have a release for all of these confusing, conflicting feelings she kept feeling about the elven god of lies, treachery, and rebellion. 

“The cruelty is nothing new, but what has happened to the vaunted brilliant mind of Elgar’nan the mighty? The blight has left you blunt and slow, a monster, not a mastermind. You used to be a challenging opponent.” Solas’s voice rang out once more, and Rook actually growled, shoving her sword hilt deep into the Venatori in front of her. It shouldn’t bother her so much. It shouldn’t bother her so much. It should not bother her so much.

And yet.

“You saw me as an opponent. To me, you were an irritation. A fly buzzing ceaselessly.”

“I must speak to you in this tongue. It seems that elven is beyond your grasp.”

“As much as freedom is beyond yours.”

“Once the blight is free, it will rule this world, and you will be its attack dog. You will burn this world at its command, as Andruil did at yours, and you will leave only ruin behind you.”

“This world is ruined already! Your Veil destroyed it!”

“You could heal it. You have the strength to repair the damage without using the blight!” Elgar’nan sounded like he choked on his laugh.

“Save your games for the mortals, Dread Wolf. The blight is my blade, and it will take more than your tricks to get me to lay it down.” The fight had been going on the entire conversation. Rook tried to tune it out, but it was very loud. They finally reached the tower where the Dalish were being kept, and Rook struck the red crystal with a bit more force than was probably necessary. As the walls dissipated and the elves scrambled to their feet, Rook heard Solas’s voice in her mind once more.

“I can guide you to one of my old hideouts. You can use it to make your escape. The wards still in place there will shield you all from Elgar’nan’s sight.” 

“Everyone, this way!” Rook yelled, and the group followed her down the nearby steps, and they turned off onto a crumbling pathway. She let the Dalish go first, and then ushered Neve and Emmrich across it. She looked back one more time across the lake. For a moment, she could have sworn she felt Elgar’nan’s gaze on her, but she turned and followed the others, her mind reeling from all that had just happened. She was still trying to decide if she should thank Solas for helping them, or throttle him for essentially admitting she was a means to an end.

Chapter Text

“The Dalish prisoners escaped safely?” Solas asked, as they stood across from each other for the first time in a while. She couldn’t help bristling at him.

“We got them away free and clear.” Rook was careful to keep her voice neutral, but the look of relief that crossed Solas’s face was genuine.

“Good.” He seemed to release a breath. “I do not know how you have found your dealings with the Dalish. Whatever my frustrations with them, it was a privilege to be able to help our people again.”

“Right.” Rook felt her eye twitch slightly. This man had no right to look so damn good when she was mad at him. 

“Thank you for allowing me to help. The chance to infuriate Elgar’nan was a reminder of simpler times.” Rook hummed, folding her arms across her chest.

“Yeah. You and Elgar’nan were really tearing into each other back there.” Rook said, unable to hide the irritation in her voice this time. “Loudly. In my head.” Almost as if he sensed her anger, Solas’s brow furrowed slightly.

“I needed to goad him to anger in order to distract him.” 

“Mm-hmm.” Rook said, thrumming her fingers against her arm. 

“But yes, while all of the Evanuris were monsters in their own ways, Elgar’nan was the worst.”

“All of the Evanuris?” Rook asked with fake surprise. “What about Mythal?” Solas stiffened.

“Ah. That is why you are upset.” he said, almost too understandingly for Rook to handle.

“No, no, you do not get to use that tone with me, sir .” Rook said, one hand moving to her hip while she pointed at him. “You basically threw me to the side, all but confirming Elgar’nan saying I was your bitch- ”

“I beg your pardon?” Fury crossed Solas’s features for a moment.

“Yeah! What did he say…?” Rook pretended to think about it for a moment. “‘Ever the Dread Wolf’s bitch, even in this life.’” 

“Rook-”

“Don’t you ‘Rook’ me!” her voice was rising, and Solas still stood there, on the other side of the chasm, stoic and unmoving. “What the hell are we Solas? What is this?!” She gestured wildly between them. “Was Reva ever enough for you?!” 

“We are not having this conversation-” Solas began dismissively, but Rook cut him off.

“Oh we’re having it.” she breathed. “So tell me. Did you make the Vhenan’ara vow back to Reva?” Solas said nothing for a moment. 

“If you do not remember, then I will not tell you.” he said stiffly, his shoulders tense. She had gotten to him, and she felt some sort of mad glee about it.

“Oh, so you did .” 

“I did not say-”

“You didn’t have to.” her voice was sharp, and he shut his mouth quickly. “I’m not stupid Solas. I know you’re going to do whatever it takes to get out of here and achieve your goal. I know I’m your pawn -” her emotion caught up to her, choking her momentarily. “So tell me, Dread Wolf . Since you won’t let Elgar’nan fucking say a word about Mythal but you’ll let him dig his claws into my mind and not say a damn word to him about it.” 

“As I said.” Solas’s voice was even, and she could tell he was controlling his breathing, the furrow of his brow a dead giveaway. “I had to goad him into anger. I could not let him goad me. I am sorry if my lack of words for you was hurtful. That was not my intent.” Rook went slack immediately. He apologized? She felt the anger dissipate almost at once. 

“I…” she had been ready to fist fight him about it but there he was, standing over there, looking sad and regretful and absolutely perfect and he had apologized -

“We will discuss it more, later, if you wish,” he said gently. “Let us address the task at hand first.”

“...fine.” she said, folding her arms across her chest again. “You’re not out of the dog house yet though.” she said pointedly, and Solas laughed. It was unexpectedly pleasant, and his eyes crinkled wonderfully at the corners as he retained a slight smile.

“Very well,” he said.

“Alright, fine. Elgar’nan. He’s a dick, but we know this.” Rook said, and Solas’s features hardened once more.

“He was the worst of them. Or perhaps it is more honest to say that his were the faults I found most objectionable.” Solas had no right to look so sad. “You have met him again, heard his voice hammering at the doors of your mind. And then there’s the connection we share. Can you see how he and I might frustrate one another?”

“You both think you’re too clever for everyone else.”

“That is because I am too clever for everyone else.” Solas’s smirk did something to Rook.

“Ever humble.” she said, but with no real bite. “He uses his power to crush any opposition, but you outsmart your opponents.”

“Yes. He is far more powerful than I am, and he wields that power like a graceless bludgeon. When I defeat an enemy, it is because I outsmarted them, because I was right. When he does, it is only because he was stronger.”

“Outsmarting someone and being right aren’t exactly the same thing.” Rook deadpanned.

“Aren’t they?” Solas asked, and Rook blinked. 

“We could debate that for hours.” Rook muttered. She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration. “Alright yeah, I see how the two of you wouldn’t get along.”

“He has always been what I most feared becoming. Callous and uncaring, his arrogance unchecked.” Rook pursed her lips. Wasn’t Solas already sort of… there? “To have that much power and no one to remind him that he could be wrong…”

“But you were there. You did tell him he was wrong.” Rook said softly. Solas chuckled, giving her a side glance that had butterflies erupt in her stomach.

“And I suppose I had you.” She pressed her lips together, wetting them with her tongue since they were suddenly dry. She noticed how Solas seemed to watch, distracted for just a moment. It appeared she affected him just as much as he affected her. 

“So! Um.” Rook felt herself blushing despite herself. “You said you found the Dalish frustrating. Why is that?”

“It is unfair to them.” he said, almost sadly. “I lived for thousands of years, and after I imprisoned the Evanuris, I slept for thousands more. I awoke in a world that had forgotten the ancient times almost entirely. And those who tried to remember elven history, like the Dalish, had gotten so much wrong.” 

“Let me guess. You tried to tell them what they were getting wrong, and they didn’t believe you?” Solas chuckled at that.

“There are few things that frustrate me as much as ignorance. I tried to explain the truth to one clan. When I convinced them that I was truly Fen’Harel, they attacked me.”

“‘May the Dread Wolf take you’ is an old Dalish curse.” Rook said, unable to hide the smile in her voice. Solas raised an eyebrow at her.

“After that, I hid my explanations behind the facade of having witnessed events in the Fade.”

“And one of the first lessons in the Mourn Watch is that the Fade is reality as seen through a smoky mirror.”  

“Yes. The Dalish had no reason to believe me. I could only watch as they continued to worship Elgar’nan.” A wry smile graced his features. “Though we may have seen the last of that tradition, at least.”

“Thank the Maker for small miracles.” Rook said sarcastically.

“Do you believe in the Maker?” Solas asked, genuinely curious. Rook shrugged.

“All this stuff with the gods and the Evanuris and ancient myths actually being true that have come to light recently?” Rook said, spreading her hands out wide. “I don’t know. Maybe he’s real, maybe he isn’t.” Solas hmm’d in response. For a moment, the quiet stretched, and Rook frowned, wringing her hands.

“Solas?”

“Yes?” their eyes met, and she couldn’t breathe. 

“Thank you. For helping us.” she said, her voice low. Solas said nothing, only watching her with a quiet, intense curiosity. “We would’ve had a hard time getting out of there without your help.” 

“I did not spend this long preparing you only to lose you to Elgar’nan’s machinations.” The brashness of his voice caught Rook off guard, and Solas exhaled sharply, closing his eyes for a moment as if he wished to disappear. “No. I am sorry. That was poorly said.” At least he realized it. “You have earned better from me. You deserve better than me.” He took a deep breath, and Rook realized the space between them had grown smaller. “When we first met, I saw you only as a foolishly confident child who disrupted my plans. You were an irritant. I gave you information to oppose Elgar’nan out of necessity. I expected you to be nothing more than a tool.” Rook eyed the ledges warily as they drew ever closer. She raised an eyebrow at Solas, hesitant of what he was about to say, or do. The ledges met, and Solas walked over to her, stopping in front of her. She looked up at him, trying to square her shoulders so she wasn’t so small compared to him. 

“And then, when the revelation came about who you were, I felt the whole world change.” His voice was thick with emotion and Rook felt her heart hammering in her chest. “I was wrong.” Solas said, his eyes still a vivid purple. “I was wrong in so many ways.” His voice was quiet, intimate, and it made Rook’s heart leap.

“I’m impressed you got that out without choking on it.” She was unable to hide the snark, and Solas’s lips twitched in a phantom of a smile. 

“If I could not admit when I was wrong, I would be no better than Elgar’nan.”

“But you are better than he is.” Rook said quietly. Solas still stood with his hands behind his back, and Rook looked up at him. 

“Thank you for saying so.” he said, his voice quiet.

“So what’s next?” Rook asked, trying to ignore the sexual tension that had started to build between them. 

“Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain are preparing the dagger they will use for their ritual to pierce the Veil. Elgar’nan’s power is tied to light and darkness. He will need to perform a ritual during the next eclipse.”

“That sounds so fun.” Rook drawled.

“It is likely your last chance to prepare.” Solas said, continuing. “You must be ready for whatever comes, for this world and for the team that trusts you. I know that you will do everything in your power not to fail them.”

“Damn right I will.” Rook said, earning a half smile from Solas. 

“Now. About Mythal.” Solas was maybe a foot away from her. “What I said to Elgar’nan, I said what I did to ensure he did not go after you.” 

“Explain.” Rook said, irritation creeping into her voice. 

“You saw how he reacted when I mentioned Mythal.” Solas said, a shadow passing over his face. “Now, imagine if I had defended you to him.” he paused for dramatic effect. “He would have done anything he could to make sure you never escaped his trap, and you would have been lost, or worse, enslaved.” Rook swallowed nervously, her irritation dissipating once more. “And I know you better than you know yourself.” he took a step forward, his hand coming up to her cheek, the tips of his fingers gently brushing her cheek making her breath hitch. “You chose the name Reva.” he said quietly, fondly. “Even then, you never bowed to anyone. Your name means ‘freedom’, and if you were to be enslaved…” Solas withdrew his hand, casting his eyes down for a moment. “It would destroy you.” Rook instinctively reached out for his hand, her fingers lacing through his. For a moment neither of them said anything.

“I see.” she said quietly.

“I did not mean to hurt you.” his voice sounded pained, and she met his gaze. 

“I believe you.” she said quietly. 

“You still do not remember everything.” he said sadly.

“I don’t think so.” she replied. “I started to remember something while we were there in the crater, but the pain in my mind…” she trailed off, remembering it. It had almost been blinding, and Solas regarded her quietly. She eyed him suspiciously. “You know what happened there, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“And you won’t tell me?”

“I will not.” She sighed impatiently.

“Why?”

“For the same reason the pain nearly blinded you remembering it.” he said, the expression on his face telling her more than his words could. “If I were to tell you, it would cause you immense pain. You must remember it on your own for it to be safe.”

“Whatever happened must have been pretty bad.” Rook said, and Solas snorted derisively. 

“That is a vast understatement.” he said dryly, and Rook couldn’t help smiling at him. “What?” he asked suspiciously. 

“Have I mentioned I love your sense of humor?” she asked lightly, stepping into his space. Solas looked down at her, the air between them thick with emotion and unspoken intentions.

“Not in this life,” he said. 

“And…you felt the whole world change?”

“A figure of speech.”

“I am aware of the metaphor. I’m more interested in ‘felt’.” she looked up at him, essentially presenting herself as an open and ready participant.

“You have always changed… everything .” He looked away for a moment, their hands still entwined. Rook stood on her toes, taking her other hand to his jaw, and turning his face so she could kiss him. He responded immediately, his other hand coming to grip her waist, and they melted together as if they had always been one. Rook was sure he would try something in the future, but for now, she wanted to enjoy being with him, even if it was fleeting. Her heart felt fit to bursting, his lips rough against hers as he dipped her back, his other hand leaving hers as it wrapped it in her hair, pulling her close against him. Her heart felt full but broken at the same time, and she pushed the brokenness of her feelings away as she lost herself in his kiss. 

Too soon for her he broke the kiss, his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling. 

“I feel your sorrow.” he murmured, his arm wrapping tighter around her waist. “You will understand before too long.” 

“What will I understand?” she whispered, unsure if she wanted to know.

“Everything.”

Rook woke with a start, the ceiling of the meditation chamber reflecting the light from the fish tank. She groaned, flinging her arm over her eyes, feeling the storm of emotions raging inside. 

-.-.-

“So we have until the next eclipse?” Harding asked. The group was gathered in the library around the small table, discussing the next steps.

“Elgar’nan has recovered his Archdemon and is immortal until we kill it.” Davrin grumbled.

“And we all know how hard those things are to kill.” Varric stood next to Lucanis, adding his voice into the mix. 

“Well, we killed Razikale, didn’t we?” Harding asked.

“After losing hundreds of Wardens and springing a centuries old trap.” Davrin said, glowering. “We don’t have either of those this time.”

“And that was the largest dragon I have ever seen.” Taash said, slightly in awe. “I don’t know what breed it is either. I’ve never seen one like it.”

“We always knew this was going to be difficult.” Rook said, leaning forward in her chair. “We can’t give up.”

“I don’t think anyone was suggesting that.” Varric said lightly. 

“Right now, we’re the only ones who can stand up to the Evanuris. We have to do this. Whatever it takes.” she said, remembering a past conversation with Solas.

“Nice speech Rook.” Varric said. They talked a bit more about what the next steps would be, with Lucanis informing them that the Antaam were moving in Treviso. Rook told everyone to rest, and the group dispersed, and she walked over to Varric, who had been watching her almost suspiciously.

“You alright kid?” His voice was gravelly, but touched with concern.

“I guess.” Rook muttered, rubbing the back of her head. 

“How are things with you and Chuckles?” he asked as they began the slow walk back to the infirmary where he had been sleeping. Rook snorted.

“I don’t know.” she said, sighing. “One moment I love him more than life itself and the next I want to strangle him.” she laughed humorlessly. “I’m getting severe whiplash from it.”

“More than life itself?” he asked wryly, and Rook felt her cheeks burn at the admission.

“It's…complicated.” 

“Usually anything with Solas is complicated.”

“It’s like…” she paused as she found the words. Varric climbed back onto his cot, and she sat down on the one next to it. “Before I met him, in this life anyway, I seemed…normal. But I met him and it was as if something I had never known was missing had been found. As if a part of me had been revealed. The emotions I feel from Reva’s or my memories as Reva, they’re real. Everything is so much more real, he is so much more to me than just someone I set out to stop when we met.” Varric nodded understandingly. 

“Well, if anyone can push through it and figure it out, it’s you,” he said reassuringly. “You’re doing great.”

“Thanks.” she said half heartedly. “We wouldn’t have made it out of Arlathan without Solas’s help, and I got all bent out of shape because of something he said about Mythal in his verbal sparring match with Elgar’nan.”

“Love makes people do crazy things.” Varric said, sighing. “Like naming a crossbow after them.”

“We can’t all be as witty as you, Varric.”

“No, but you can aspire to such heights.” Rook laughed.

“I’ll try my best, Dad .” she said jokingly, and Varric laughed with her. 

“Alright, well get out of here and get some rest.” he said, laying back down. “I need some more sleep. Keep me posted.” Rook stood, and couldn’t help the smile on her face as she looked back at Varric at the door. 

“I will. Get some rest.” He waved her off, and she turned and went back into the Lighthouse. 

Chapter Text

Rook didn't often get to speak to Solas on the same day, but when she went to bed that night after Arlathan, there he was. He was standing next to her, his hands behind his back as they always were, and he didn't look at her as she got her bearings. She wasn't sure what to say, so she waited, quietly, standing next to him, rocking back and forth on her feet, looking around. The prison was as dreary as it always was. The only constant being gray, and the occasional glimmer of magic that sparked a string of color in the air. Finally, Solas spoke.

“Something has been bothering me," said Solas. He didn't look at her, but she could tell he clearly wanted to have this conversation. She leaned over, eyeing him, to be met with a swift glance before he looked away again.

“Okay…?” She said, giving him the room to speak. He paused, his brow furrowed and a small frown on his face. Rook pursed her lips; she hated how good he always looked. 

“Elgar'nan called you my…bitch?” He said the last word with a hint of acid, and Rook raised an eyebrow at him.

“He also suggested I abandon you and become the new All-Mother at his side.” Rook deadpanned. Solas seemed a bit stiffer than normal as he stood next to her. He frowned.

“I see.” His voice was curt, and Rook stepped closer. 

“You said it bothered you?” She asked, a smile growing on her face. Solas shot her a scathing glare. 

“And what did you say to him?” He looked away from her, apparently determined to not keep eye contact.

“I…said nothing?” She said, somewhat confused. Solas’s jaw visibly tightened. 

“Is that so?” He still didn't look at her, but there was something in the stiffness of his shoulders, the coldness of his gaze-

Her mouth dropped open in surprised delight. Was Solas jealous?

“Are…you jealous?” She couldn't hide the smile, or the giddiness she felt at this revelation. She was once again met with a glare before he looked away, scoffing. “Oh no you are jealous!” 

“I am no such thing.” he said stiffly, not looking at her still. Rook couldn’t help grinning. What an absolute delight . “I am angry that he spoke to you in such a degrading way.”

“That’s why you won’t look at me, isn’t it?” she moved to stand in front of him, and without tilting his head his eyes swept down to meet hers. 

“I am looking at you.” his tone was still stiff, as was the rest of him, and Rook leaned forward slightly, her hair spilling over her shoulder. Solas’s eyes watched the movement, and she could almost feel his irritation. 

“Only because I moved in front of you.” she scoffed, and Solas’s mouth quirked upwards in a smirk that did things to her. She loved and hated him when he looked at her like that.

“So.” His voice had lowered, but he remained where he was. “What else did he promise?” His tone was layered with different levels of acidity, which almost stunned Rook into silence. 

“That was it.” Rook said, blinking. “I opted to ignore him, since I figured that would make him angrier.”

“Ah.” Solas bowed his head slightly, the smirk still on his face. Rook wasn’t about to let him turn the tables on her though.

“But, you’re still jealous because he tried to talk me away from you.” Rook said, folding her arms across her chest. Solas’s gaze met hers once more, his eyes blazing but his face passive.

“I am not- ”

“You are!”

“You are impossible.”

“And yet here we stand.” Rook couldn’t stop grinning, and she knew it was a shit eating grin, because Solas had never looked less amused in recent memory. 

“Do not think you have won this.” Solas said, a warning in his voice. Rook snorted, shaking her head.

“Hm, it seems like the Dread Wolf has nothing to say to me about it, so I’ll take that as a win.” she said, tilting her head at him. Solas chuckled darkly, and he brought one hand around to her, his index finger tilting her chin up to look at him, his eyes dark with lust and something else.

“Just wait for me to take you .” he murmured, and Rook swore she stopped breathing. She had a sharp intake of breath, and Solas chuckled, stepping into her space, his other hand coming to ghost over her hip, the barest of touches, tantalizingly close but out of reach. “The only reason I have not had you every way I desire yet is because I want it to be real .” He suddenly pulled her flush against him, and she actually squeaked indignantly and in surprise as her hands flew to his chest, her heart in her ears, her want almost choking her. His lips hovered over hers, his fingers ghosting her neck, his arm tight around her waist. She could feel how hard he was against her, and she couldn’t help but lean forward slightly, her mouth slightly open, begging him silently for him to kiss her. 

“I don’t think I will kiss you.” he said, tilting his head slightly, and she actually whined. He chuckled, his hand cradling her face and tilting it up as he brought his lips closer to her neck. “Remember this, Rook.” He placed a hot kiss to her neck, under her jaw where she was sensitive, and she curled into him, unable to move her arms because of how he had trapped her. His arm around her waist moved, his hand moving to cup the swell of her ass, and he squeezed it as he kissed her neck, moving up to her ear, his breath hot and hers becoming uneven as she grew wetter by the second. “How badly do you want me?” he all but whispered in her ear, and she bit back a moan, trying to move to kiss him but he held her firm.

“Do not think you have won this.” he repeated, grazing his teeth across her neck, moving back so he could look at her. Maker’s breath but she needed Solas to kiss her - 

She felt his other hand slide along the hem of her pants at her waist, and a thrill went through her. He held her face still, and teased the edge of her pants, fingers trailing lower until he pressed his hand against her wetness, making her gasp, and a wicked grin graced his features. 

“So beautifully fierce.” he whispered, “I will undo you without kissing you once.” he promised, and Rook whimpered. He brought his hand from her waist up to his mouth, taking the fingertips of his glove in his teeth, deftly pulling it off. He tossed it to the side with a flick of his head, his bare hand quickly sliding back under her tunic, his fingers igniting her skin as he trailed them down her stomach, lower, his hand slipping past her waistband and soaked small clothes, and he inserted a single finger into her wetness, making her moan loudly, her hands clawing at his armor. He chuckled darkly, tilting her head back a bit more, his finger sliding slowly, ever so slowly as he explored her. 

“Solas…” Rook’s voice wavered, her body trembling, the need and the wonderful pleasure of having him touch her almost already too much to bear. She was choking on the want building in her throat, and she tried to keep her mouth closed, trying to maintain eye contact. Solas’s eyes were lidded, darkened with desire, and he slid a second finger into her folds, and she tried keening against him so he would brush the sensitive spot where she needed him to the most. Rook didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but it felt so. fucking. good. She swallowed, her eyes fluttering, a soft moan escaping her lips as she pressed herself against him as much as she could. She barely managed to reach one hand up to the back of his neck, and made a futile effort to pull him closer so she could kiss him. He resisted, easily, and his smirk grew. His fingers slid faster, and when he traced her swollen bud she gasped, and the grip on her neck tightened.

“How badly do you want this?” his voice did things to her-

“Please, Solas-” she choked, holding onto him, her body alight, her eyes rolling back in her head as his fingers stroked and circled and built up the tension even more. She couldn’t help gasping- “Please, I’m so close-”  

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.” he murmured, and the culmination of his words and fingers were enough to send her over. She couldn’t help the moan that escaped her as she shuddered, waves of pleasure rolling through her, and Solas circled her clit, letting her ride out her orgasm on his fingers. She went limp against him, and he withdrew his hand, and never breaking eye contact brought his fingers to his lips to taste her. The sight was so erotic she couldn’t help shuddering again, and Solas took his time cleaning his fingers of her. Her breathing was still ragged, coming down from the high he had just brought her to. 

“Exquisite.” He let go of her neck, his hand going to her waist to steady her as he chuckled darkly. “Now.” he all but purred, “ wake up .”

Rook woke with a start, and she realized her pants and small clothes were soaked from the dream. She was still incredibly aroused, and more than upset that Solas had kicked her out of the dream before she could reciprocate.

You will remember that . His voice echoed in her mind, and she could have screamed in frustration. 

-.-.-.-

They had some business to finish up. The griffons became the new guardians of Arlathan Forest. Bellara chose to keep the Archive spirit so the elves could learn from their past. And Lucanis became First Talon of the Crows. Rook still thinks he should have shanked Illario, but that wasn’t her business. She did not see Solas in her dreams for the next several days, and she couldn’t help the growing anxiety in the back of her mind. She knew he could talk to her if he wanted to in the Lighthouse, but he was silent. He seemed content to let her stew on the experience he had given her the last time they met. And so, Rook went to meet with Morrigan at the Cobbled Swan in Minrathous, to discuss what could be done next.

“Are your allies ready?” Morrigan asked, and Rook shifted in her seat.

“I think we're as ready as we can be. We have a few weeks before the next eclipse.” She said, “We defeated the dragon revenant in the Crossroads, and we've helped out the Wardens, the Mourn Watch, the Veil Jumpers, the Lords of Fortune, the Crows, and the Shadow Dragons.” She ticked them off on her fingers as she spoke. “Did you know they wanted my opinion on who should be the next Archon?” Rook asked, disbelieving. “I am from the Mourn Watch. What do I know about Tevinter politics?” Morrigan smiled at her.

“Ah, the burden of being involved in world shaking events.” She said knowingly. 

“It seems-” Rook stopped, as the light from the windows grew darker. They heard a commotion outside; Morrigan and Rook exchanged a look and both of them bolted out of the Cobbled Swan and into the street. People were staring at the sky, and with good reason.

The moon was moving.  

“Elgar'nan…!” Rook knew instinctively that Elgar'nan was the one moving the moon. The sky was turning a blood red as the moon came to rest in front of the sun.

“Gather your allies Rook.” Morrigan said, staring at the sky. “We no longer have time.” 

-.-.-

Back in the Lighthouse, the group stood in the library. 

“Elgar’nan just caused an eclipse. We have to move. Now. ” Lucanis said.

“Well, how much time do we have now?” Neve asked.

“It’s not weeks, I can tell you that much.” Varric muttered.

“The eclipse is slowly forcing an alignment between the stars and powerful currents in the Fade.” Emmrich explained.

“Which means…?” Taash said, looking a bit confused.

“I’m afraid we’ve only a few hours until the gods complete their dagger to pierce the Veil.”

“We have to go; now.” Rook agreed, looking at everyone.

“Do you think we’re enough?” Neve asked.

“We have to be.” Rook replied, and for a moment no one said anything. “We might not all make it. But if we don’t stop them, the world ends. And there’s no one else I’d rather do this with. No one.” she looked at everyone, warmth filling her heart. She was terrified, sure, but she had come to care deeply about all of her friends. “Let’s stop these assholes. Whatever it takes.”

.-.-.

After making sure all of her supplies were ready, Rook went to the infirmary to see Varric. He was standing, and seemed to almost expect her.

“Hey kid.” he said, with his usual gentleness.

“Varric…” Rook trailed off. 

“Take a deep breath.” Varric said. Rook did.

“They’ve changed all the rules. We have no idea what’s on the island, and we’re all pretty sure we’re all going to die.”

“Well, with that attitude, sure.”

“Varric!”

“What? Just being honest.” he chuckled. “But in all seriousness. Weird shit is happening, of course everyone is on edge. It’s not a personal failing for you to be scared either.”

“I don’t know how to…” she faltered, wringing her hands. “I don’t know how to do this. To lead.”

“No one does.” Varric assured her. “This job was always going to call for someone who could improvise. And look at what you’ve done. You’re on this team for a reason too, you know.”

“The world deserves better.” she said, looking down. She looked back up at him. “Thank you Varric. I’ll see you…” when I get back . The words died in her throat. He smiled reassuringly at her.

“You know where to find me.” She hesitated a moment, but then surged forward to hug the old dwarf. He seemed startled, but she gave him a squeeze, as if to make sure he was really there.

"I wish you could come with us." she whispered, and he chuckled, patting her shoulder.

"There, there Rook. I do too." she drew away, looking down at him. "If anyone can do this, it will be you."

-.-.

Rook stood in Solas’s room, the red light of the eclipse bathing the Lighthouse in its eerie glow. She traced her hands over the mural he had painted, wishing she could have some sort of assurance that they would win. She decided; she went to Solas’s cot, sat down, and closed her eyes, focusing on her connection to Solas. 

“Rook?” She opened her eyes; she was in the Fade prison, and Solas stood next to her, looking a bit surprised that she was there.

“Oh thank goodness it worked.” She breathed, and Solas frowned at her.

“You don't have time to be here.” He said, a note of panic hidden in his tone. “You must-” she ran forward, and hugged him, and he cut himself off, startled. 

“I don't know if I can do this.” She whispered, clutching to him as if her life depended on it. For a moment he didn't move, but he slowly wrapped his arms around her as well, his breath in her hair.

“You must do this.” He said quietly. “You are the only one who can.” 

“He moved the moon, Solas.” She pulled back some to look at him. He met her gaze, his eyes a storm of blue and purple. 

“I know, vhenan.” His voice was still low, and she bit her lip, looking down for a moment. She met his eyes again.

“Solas.” Her heart hammered in her chest, a very unpleasant tightness settling in her chest and stomach as she looked at him. “What if I-” 

“You will not.” He said with conviction, his eyes flashing. “You are the fiercest warrior I have ever known.” Genuine affection warmed his voice, and she swallowed nervously. “Reva.” He all but whispered, a hand coming up to hold the side of her face. “Tel enfenim.” [Do not be afraid] 

“Ar te'elan halani ra.” [I cannot help it] she whispered back. Neither of them said anything, locked in each other's arms. He gazed at her as if she were the most precious thing he had ever seen.

“Ma ane ina’lan’ehn.” [you are so beautiful] He said, his eyes roaming over her, as if committing every detail to memory. She flushed under his gaze, and he tipped her chin up to look at him. “Go. I will see you on the other side.” 

“Solas-” she protested, but she jerked awake, and she was back in his room in the Lighthouse. She groaned. “WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS SOLAS.” but she was not met with an answer, and she went to join the team to head to Tearstone Island. 

Chapter Text

The fight at Weisshaupt had been brutal. Seemingly endless waves of darkspawn everywhere, Rook had thought she would never fight another battle like it.

How very wrong she was.

Tearstone Island was beautiful. The part of her that was a spirit of Passion still wanted to run and check every nook and cranny she could find, for hints of the ancient Elven empire that had clearly once dominated this place. The ruins were everywhere. Gold glittered through vines and dirt, broken statues half submerged in water or jungle, and war cries echoing everywhere as the eclipse bathed the world in a reddish glow. The team looked to Rook for a decision as she decided who would lead the distraction team. She had a sinking feeling about her choice, but she chose Davrin to lead the charge for the distraction team.

Rook, Harding, and Taash struggled their way closer to where Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain were doing their ritual to finish their dagger. Antaam and mercenaries were everywhere. Rook almost felt bad as they all fell before them, the mercenaries not standing a chance against her and her friends. The Caretaker had enchanted their weapons and armor, and Rook’s blades cut with fire and lightning as she danced through their enemies. Soon though, Elgar’nan’s voice echoed in her mind as they ascended to higher levels.

“How brave of you to seek me out…Rook.” his voice was still just as twisted as before. “We shall meet. Soon.” 

“Why is he in my head?!” Taash yelled angrily. “How does he know my name?!” They continued on through ever more grand ruins. Arches, stairways, what was probably once a beautiful city was now a bloody and blighted battlefield. Rook, Taash, and Harding left dead bodies in their wake, and Rook’s heart was hammering in her chest, knowing time was of the essence.

“Ghilan’nain and I must complete our task before we join you, but this magic we harness will transform the world. And all those within it.” Elgar’nan’s voice boomed through the air, and renewed war cries echoed around them.

“I hope Davrin and the others are alright.” Rook said as they rounded a bend.

“Davrin’s a monster hunter and a Grey Warden. He’ll be alright.” Taash said confidently, and Rook didn’t reply. She sure hoped so. They raced across a bridge overlooking the valley below, where smoke and fire rose in equal measure from the apparent fortress there. Rook only glanced for a moment, but then continued to through the archway to their right. They came out in what appeared to have been some kind of garden, but Rook wasn’t looking at it.

“Archdemon!!” she yelled, diving for cover as Harding and Taash did the same. The Archdemon Luscan was perched on a ruined tower near them, his presence overbearing, and he roared, shaking the very air around them. Rook’s ears were ringing, her body aching, covered in dirt, blood, and sweat, and she expected to take on this massive dragon, but it flew off, the wind from its wings knocking her back down to ground even as she tried to stand.

“Shit! We need to hurry!!” Taash yelled, running over and helping Rook up. Rook only nodded, and they ran forward. More fighting, more Antaam to kill, and then more darkspawn as they got deeper into enemy territory.

“There are things I would have of you, Rook.” Elgar’nan spoke again, almost as if he were standing next to her. “Draw closer. You will learn what they are.” Rook ignored him and they kept moving. The blight had taken over the ruins, huge tendrils and swathes of darkspawn met them at every turn. As they reached a busted up bridge, they saw something that made Rook’s heart drop.

A tear into the Fade.

“Are we too late?!” Harding asked, her voice panicked as they ran past it, the green tear in the air above them pulsing with unstable magic.

“Nah, if they had finished their dagger they’d be gloating.” Rook said, somehow keeping her voice calm. “Perhaps if we kill Ghilan’nain, steal their dagger, then we can stop Elgar’nan from unleashing the blight.”

They continued, because they had to. Rook ignored the burning in her legs as she forced herself to run as fast as she could. More Fade tears appeared, each one more volatile than the last. If they got too close to one, the energy drew in on itself and exploded outwards, and it took a great deal of running and diving and rolling out of the way to avoid getting hurt by them. 

Finally, at long last, they seemed to reach a brief respite in one of the larger buildings, where they met up with Davrin and the others. 

“Is everyone alright?” Rook asked as the group caught their breath, passing around a few water skins. 

“As good as we can be.” Davrin said, with Assan squawking in assent next to him. Maker but Rook loved that little griffon, and she would have felt much better if Assan had stayed at the Lighthouse. But, Davrin and Assan fought together, and Rook couldn’t separate them even if she tried. 

“Wait! We can’t move forward yet.” Bellara said suddenly, and Rook looked at her. “Look, there are wards blocking the way out. Blood magic.” 

“One touch could kill.” Neve agreed, and Rook looked at her friends.

“So what do we do?” she asked. 

“Patterns are familiar. If I can fracture the harmonics, we could get through. Maybe.” Bellara said, just a hint of uncertainty in her voice. 

“I deal with blood magic. I can stop the damage long enough to burn out the wards.” Neve said, both women looking at Rook.

“That’s risky, Neve. Really risky. I can’t ask you to do that.” Bellara said, looking at Neve.

“Your way’s just as dangerous. Don’t like it, but one of us has to do it.” Neve replied, looking at Bellara. Rook considered for a moment. She hated this.

“Bellara, this is your territory. Just…be careful.” she said. Rook and the team waited while Bellara worked with the wards, Bellara humming to herself as she focused on it. Before long, the ghastly green light shattered, and the doors opened.

“And there!” Bellara said happily. 

“Great work!” Rook said, clapping her on the shoulder.

“Thanks. Be careful though, the gods might know our location now.”

“That is a certainty.” A blight tendril grabbed Bellara around the torso, and dragged her into a suddenly lit Eluvian behind her as she screamed. Her scream was cut off as abruptly as she had been taken, and Rook didn’t even have to yell her name. Elgar’nan’s shadow appeared in the Eluvian, his eyes glowing red. Rook made a dash to run after her, but Davrin grabbed her arm, stopping her as Elgar’nan laughed, the coldness of it cutting through Rook.

“The elves are a scattered people, but fret not: I shall bring your mage gently back into our fold.” As soon as he stopped speaking the Eluvian shattered. “You can all be forgiven by embracing the wisdom of surrender.” Elgar’nan’s voice echoed around them. “Continue, and even the Dread Wolf will regret what I do to his bitch.”

“Come on!” Rook yelled, her head throbbing with a headache now. The group didn’t need to answer; they all followed her through the door that Bellara had unlocked for them. 

The group split up again, with Davrin taking his team around to stay out of sight to get Lucanis closer to the ritual site. They exited the elevator that the Antaam had apparently made, and stepped out onto the final height. The sky was a deep, blood red, and the magic around them swirled like a storm. Harding commented as such.

“I don’t care what these ‘gods’ are doing.” Rook spat angrily. “We are going to kill Ghilan’nain and then…”

“Kill Elgar’nan.” Davrin finished for her. Rook looked at him, her eyes searching his. 

“Good luck, Davrin.” she said, and she held her hand out for him to take. He clasped her hand, his gloved hand dwarfing hers. His hand was warm.

“Like I promised. Whatever it takes.” He turned and headed in the other direction, and Rook handed the lyrium dagger to Lucanis.

“It’s all yours.” she said, and Lucanis smirked.

“As is Ghilan’nain.” and he dove off after Davrin. 

They came into a blighted courtyard, trees of blight tendrils and boils sprouting up like a small forest. The blight and Fade tears were everywhere. Harding and Emmrich had gone with Davrin, so it was Neve and Taash with Rook. Naturally, there was a heavy fog here, obscuring their vision.

“Fucking typical.” Rook muttered as they heard the darkspawn before they saw them.

“Fog, so we don’t see them until its too late.” Neve shouted as she blasted a few darkspawn nearby. The fighting went much as it had before; their enchanted weapons and armor made a world of difference here, and they sliced through the darkspawn like a knife through hot butter. Ghilan’nain didn’t seem to realize this though because she started to taunt them, her voice echoing like Elgar’nan’s had.

“The first age of gods was a time of conquest. The second age of gods saw wonders built. Then came blight. Pride. Betrayal.” Her voice turned acidic as she spoke that last word. “And the third age of gods was ruin!”

“It sounds like you got what you deserved!” Rook shouted as they finally cut through to the next part of the structure. 

“Don’t let her get-” Davrin’s voice echoed and was suddenly cut off further ahead.

“Davrin!!” Rook yelled, about to run forward, but then she saw Ghilan’nain floating through the mist like some tentacled ghost. Ghilan’nain laughed, and vanished again as more darkspawn appeared. 

They finally made it through as Ghilan’nain cackles filled the air around them.

“So few of you remain.” Rook turned, and Taash and Neve were gone. “Small. Desperate.” and then she appeared, flying towards Rook. “Fearful.” Rook clenched her fists, her swords a grounding presence. “You are but a shadow, little Rook. The Shield of the Dread Wolf, and what has he done for you besides lie, use, and betray you?” 

“Shut your ugly face!” Rook shouted, rolling her shoulders. “Solas has always fought for the People! And if I can be a thorn in your side in this life as well, then I welcome the chance to spit in your caricatured face once more.” 

“Ugly?” Ghilan’nain whispered, furious. “Caricatured?! At least I am not following a used toy around like a bitch in heat!” she shouted, and Rook couldn’t help the somewhat crazy laugh that escaped her. 

“You would fuck your own brother if he’d let you.” she said with a pointed look at Ghilan’nain, and Ghilan’nain’s scream split her ears. 

“For your transgressions, Shield of the Dread Wolf, you face a god alone.” and the fight began. Rook ran around, dodging and slashing and twisting out of the way. Her friends had been captured by blight tendrils, and she began to work to free them. Ghilan’nain had a glowing red barrier around her, and every time she struck down a blight boil, it seemed to shimmer a bit, as if it were being weakened. As Rook freed Lucanis, Ghilan’nain grabbed Rook, a blight tendril wrapping around her leg, and pulling her along the ground backwards. Rook struggled against it, but it was no use. Soon, she was hanging upside down in front of Ghilan’nain, the twisted elf even uglier up close. Black blood dripped from the eye and mouth sockets of the mask she wore, very thin, dark hair fluttered underneath it against her extra long neck. Rook was furious, she had dropped her swords, her shield lay somewhere forgotten, and she struggled, trying to reach up to grab the tendril holding her, but it was no use.

“Behold your current age! Fragile. Aimless. Lost!” Ghilan’nain’s voice echoed as she began monologuing. Rook spotted Davrin climbing the broken rock tower behind her. “We are the only beings in this world who can cleanse and tame the blight. Use it to rebuild the old glories.” Davrin had made it to the top of the tower, and he drew his sword, apparently ready to leap down onto Ghilan’nain's back. “You’ve done naught but destroy them.”

“You and Elgar’nan are trapped by the past, just like Solas!” Rook yelled, even as all the blood rushed to her head. “You had your chance! Each one of you! And this world will fight you tooth and nail, and even if you kill me today, there will always be others! There will always be someone who rebels against you!” Rook saw a flash of movement to her left, and Ghilan’nain’s attention was turned for a moment. Lucanis had tried to dive at her, only for Ghilan’nain to grab him with a blight tendril, much the same as Rook. Rook then saw Assan flying overhead, and her stomach dropped.

No.

“Assan! Now!” Davrin’s voice rang out, and Assan dive bombed Ghilan’nain. The goddess dodged, turning her attention to Davrin.

No no no no no no no no no no nonononono-

One of Ghilan’nain’s tentacles ripped through Davrin’s chest, impaling him. Blood sprayed from the open wound, and he coughed as the air was driven from his lungs, blood spilling from his mouth. And yet, he kept moving. He turned, gritting his teeth, and swinging his sword down on the tentacle as Assan harassed Ghilan’nain from above. So Ghilan’nain shot another tentacle through Davrin, right next to the first, and Davrin grunted from the force.

“Davrin!!” Rook heard herself scream, as Ghilan’nain moved closer to Davrin. He was still alive, and so one more tentacle shot out, disemboweling him. Rook couldn’t hear anything, but she saw Davrin begin to fall into a blight pool, almost as if in slow motion. He wasn’t moving, holes through his torso, and then Assan dived after him as if to catch him, but Warden and griffon disappeared into the blight pool as one.

As Ghilan’nain turned, Lucanis struck true with the lyrium dagger, having broken free while her attention had been turned. Rook dropped to the ground, being freed from the tendril, landing with a hard thump, and she looked up to see Lucanis roll away from Ghilan’nain as the would-be goddess fell to the ground, every limb of hers flailing as she did so. There was a great blue light that erupted from where she had been stabbed, and Rook felt the force of it, almost as if part of the Fade had been drawn into the world for a moment.

“Ghilan’nain!” Elgar’nan actually sounded concerned as he stopped his ritual to come check on his fallen sister. Ghilan’nain was still breathing, but she had the death rattle in her voice as she looked at Elgar’nan.

“We had…such plans, Elgar’nan.” She said, her voice raspy. Something akin to sorrow was visible on Elgar’nan’s face as Ghilan’nain took a breath, and then her head fell backwards, her life blood spent. The lyrium dagger in her chest was pulsating, creating waves of air and magic that were beginning to force them backwards. Rook looked at Elgar’nan; it seemed even he couldn’t stand in the presence of this influx of magic. He raised the dagger he had created, which looked strikingly similar to the one in Ghilan’nain’s chest, only it appeared to be made of red lyirum. Elgar’nan glared at Rook.

“You!” Rook did not fail to notice how he pulled his dagger back, as the magic from the other one almost seemed to disintegrate it. He cast one more glare at Rook. “You will regret this.” He hissed, and then he turned, his cloak billowing behind him, and then he was gone in a flash of lightning.

There was another blast of air and magic from the dagger, and Rook heard Neve and Emmrich yell something over the roar of the wind as she forced herself closer. Rook stumbled, and for a moment saw Varric lying there-

No, that couldn’t be right. She landed on her knees next to Ghilan’nain, and grasped the dagger, yanking it out with all the force she could muster. Immediately, the magic and the wind disappeared. Rook was breathing heavily, but she looked at the dagger as she stood slowly.

“Lucanis?” she asked, turning to see Lucanis on the ground in front of her. But…did she also see Solas standing there? No, that couldn’t be- “Lucanis!” Rook ran forward to her friend, his body motionless on the ground. She fell on her knees again, carefully reaching for his shoulder, and moved to turn him over-

Varric’s body lay on the ground instead. She gasped, stepping up and away.

“And so you have your victory. You live…” she spun; was Solas behind her? But, he couldn’t be- “…and Ghilan’nain does not.” She looked back down at – Lucanis, where a moment ago it had been Varric. Something was wrong. Her heart was racing, her breath was ragged, her chest was tight-

“Are you not proud to finally reach this moment?” Solas’s words were almost like a whisper in her ear, as soft as a lover’s caress, and she felt him walk behind her, his fingers barely brushing the hand that clutched the lyrium dagger. She didn’t turn around though; her mind was racing, and Lucanis lay on the ground in front of her, his body turning to what appeared to be stone. “Or did you think you’d win the day without some painful sacrifice?”

“Solas?” she called, her voice shaking. No. No no no NO NO NOT NOW- she gasped, looking up, as one ocf the enormous statues fell on top of her. Instead of pain though, she started falling. She heard everyone’s voices as she fell. She was spinning, falling, but she couldn’t focus on it. All she heard was Lucanis telling her innocent people would die if she didn’t go to Treviso. The First Warden echoed in her mind, shouts and yells of Weisshaupt echoing everywhere. She crashed through more rocks, broken buildings and stone arches all around her as she fell deeper into the Fade.

“No one’s retreating!”

“We’ll all die!”

“Archdemon’s attacking the north wall!” Rook spun, digging the dagger into a crumbling building, and it stopped her fall. She hung there, precariously, and then she saw him. Her vhenan, the spirit made man whom she followed out of the Fade for, the man whom she had lived and fought thousands of years for, for whom she had come back from death for-

Her head ached suddenly, and she looked at Solas, begging him silently to help her.

“You and your friends stood against the Evanuris.” He said, his voice deep and confident as he stood in front of several wolf statues above her.

“No…” she whispered, her heart breaking. She felt it; she could feel it in every inch of her bones. This was his betrayal. One more time. She had known it would happen, but that did not lessen the pain.

“Your courage is laudable, as it always has been Reva.” She struggled, unable to get a grasp with her other hand. “But mortals cannot win this battle.”

“Solas!!” she half yelled half sobbed. He ignored her cries.

“I am sorry. It is what must be.” He didn't look at her as another statue fell on Rook, causing the dagger to break free, and she was falling again. Now she heard Davrin.

“You were never up to it.” His words rang in her ears, and then she heard her other friends too.

“Worthless.”

“Varric never believed in you.”

“You’re no leader.”

“You failed us all.”

“What failure cuts your conscience now, I wonder?” Solas’s voice was steady, and Rook couldn’t keep up.

“Solas you bastard-” Her anger was vibrant and hot, cutting through her. She was cut off as suddenly she was holding a statue of Bellara, her hand gripping the statue's, the only thing keeping both from falling further into the abyss was the lyrium dagger. The dagger was sparking with the effort, and Rook turned her head to see Solas standing there, just out of reach. 

Gone was the man who had whispered sweet nothings to her, who had promised her the world and meant it. Gone was the man in who's eyes she saw everything she had ever wanted and more. Standing in his place was Fen’Harel, the rebellious Dread Wolf, ever the betrayer and trickster. 

“Your friend is dead.”

“Dead and gone.”

“Regret, like all emotions, is a powerful thing. It can bruise us, break us…blind us to the truth.” Rook was drowning in it. She glared at Solas, her fury sputtering even now, despite the cold indifference on his face. “Regret is even strong enough to serve as a lock on a prison built to hold gods. But such a prison can hold anyone captive…” A shadow crossed his face as she glared at him. “Even you.”

“No…!” Rook fought, struggling, the weight of Bellara almost too much for her. Elgar'nan still lived, they still had work to do, they had to find Bellara, find Davrin-

“You have never been prepared to make the sacrifices leadership requires.” Solas said quietly. “Not then, and not now. So through our connection, I molded you into someone the prison would accept in my place.” Rook felt the tears on her cheeks before she realized she was crying.

“Tell me then!” She shouted, the strain of the weight reaching her. “Tell me everything was a lie! That you never loved me, that you used me from the very beginning!” Her voice was raw, and for a moment, Solas’s mask faltered.

“I cannot do that.” He said, the sorrow and perhaps even his own heartbreak laced through his voice.

“I have done everything for you!!” She screamed, “I gave up the Fade!! I fought for you!! I lived for you!! And you-”

“I must do this, Reva.” He sounded sorrowful, her outburst probably catching him off guard. “Only I can do this.”

“You dumb, prideful bastard!!” She screamed, straining, taking a step closer to him. Her anger was overpowering the regret swirling inside. “Tell me it was all a lie so I can curse you and hate you-” 

“I can't.” His voice was sad. And for a split second, the deep violet of eyes flashed blue. She grit her teeth, turning to look at Bellara-

“Varric?” Rook's voice shook as the statue she was holding now looked like Varric. The weight grew infinitely heavier.

“At least here, you will be safe.” Solas said quietly, “Your work is done.” Rook couldn't keep her grip on the dagger. She fell, and the last thing she saw was Solas, his back to her as he cut open the Fade to vanish into the light. 

Chapter Text

Reva woke up with a start, breathing heavily in the darkness. She was sweaty, as if she had just been fighting, but that couldn't be right because she hadn't fought in years. She had been dreaming. Dreaming about what?

“Are you alright?” Felassan's voice drifted from the other bed in the room. Her eyes adjusted, and she saw that he was awake. He looked rather tired. They were in one of Solas’s abandoned hideouts, where this once lively hub of rebellion had stilled to an almost graveyard-like quiet. The two beds in this room were simple and pushed against opposite walls. 

“A dream.” She said quietly. “I was…falling?” She frowned. It was unlike her to not remember her dreams. “I don't remember.” Felassan made a noise, and she smiled. The last week had been a blur. Felassan had spirited her back to Arlathan, and he had taken the extra measures to ensure she was entirely prepared for the Satinalia celebration this evening. It had been…nice, to be with her friend again, instead of being alone. She had missed him.

He had disappeared on occasion, apparently he had responsibilities to Solas that still required his attention. Reva could not help the anticipation and nervousness of seeing Solas again after so long. 

“Well, since we're both awake.” Felassan mumbled, getting out of his bed and stretching. “We might as well start getting ready.” Reva nodded, and the two of them moved towards breakfast. 

…

“Did you see him last night?” Reva asked quietly as she picked at her food. She wasn't hungry. Felassan paused mid bite, glancing at her. 

“He needed help with last minute alterations to his suit.” Felassan deadpanned. Reva snorted, grinning.

“Solas needed help making sure his wardrobe was correct?” She asked, unable to hide the amusement in her tone.

“Man's hopeless.” Felassan mused, turning back to his eggs and toast. “He was going to wear brown, Reva. I had to save him.” Reva couldn't help giggling at the mental image of Felassan parroting over Solas’s choice of colors. 

“Why brown?” 

“‘I'll blend in better’, he said,” Felassan scoffed, doing a wonderful impersonation of Solas's voice. “No you will not, to blend in you must stand out, you would think after hiding for so long he would know this.” 

“I am glad you have stayed with him.” Reva said fondly, and Felassan's eyes met hers. 

“We thought he was mad after Mythal.” He said quietly. “After you left…” Felassan trailed off, then sighed, shaking his head. “I just hope he doesn't do something stupid tonight.” 

“Oh I'm sure he'll do something.” Reva said lightly. “That's why I'm going to be there.”

“Let’s go over it again.” he said, “The necklace is imbued with lyrium in case you need a boost, and the mask is enchanted to help conceal your identity.” 

“Follow Solas but try to make sure he doesn’t see or recognize me.” she said, remembering the plan.

“If he does see you-”

“Pretend he doesn’t know me.”

“When you see the dagger?”

“Move.”

“I think we’re set.” Felassan said, finishing off his food. “Now, all we have to do is get you ready. And worry not, I have procured help for you.” 

“Help…?” Reva asked, and at that moment two women came into the room, one with a hairbrush in her hand and the other with a towel. Felassan grinned wickedly at Reva's stunned expression. 

“This is Sera and Tehlan.” Felassan said, gesturing to each woman. “I have hired them for today to help you get ready. Don't worry, they're part of the network as well. They come highly recommended.”

“Felassan-” Reva's warning was cut off as Tehlan came and helped her up.

“Come my dear. We shall turn you into a princess.” As they dragged Reva off, she glared at Felassan, who only smiled and waved.

…

Hours later, she had been bathed and dressed and presented to Felassan. Her dress swirled about her legs, the many layers lovely and dark. It was delicate looking, but it had been layered with dragon scales to help make it look more like armor in a subtle way. The dress cut down in a large V down the center of her chest almost down to her navel, revealing copious amounts of bare skin to the night air, accentuating the swell of her breasts, with tightly secured straps made to look like wisps of smoke as the tendrils fell gracefully around her arms. The bodice was soft, clinging to her curves and flowing out at the hips in multiple layers of green and black to match the scales interwoven into the fabric. The fabric was impossibly soft, clinging to her body, the crisscross of the fabric on her back exposing the dip of her waist right above her ass, showing far more skin than Reva was accustomed to or would have preferred. There was a slit on the left side that went just above her hip bone, revealing her exposed leg, all the way down to the heeled shoes she wore, an anklet sparkling silver in the evening light. An almost too tight necklace sat at her throat, the chain an intricate silver that had lyrium infused in it to help her draw on magic if she needed to. Her hair was done for the first time in ages , the brownish red-gold hair twirled up into a complex bun at the back of her head, her bangs falling gracefully to one side, shaping her face perfectly. She applied some charcoal to her eyelids, painting on silver lines for her eyes. She had a thigh strap on the exposed leg where a dagger was held on her inner thigh, just in case. 

Felassan had her spin twice in front of him to make sure she was set and ready. Sera and Tehlan had left when their work was done, leaving the two alone.

“You are a vision.” Felassan said quietly, a raw emotion in his eyes that Reva was not used to seeing. He took her hands in his, smiling sadly. “I hope and I pray to whatever gods might be out there, that the two of you are successful tonight. If we can wake in a world without the Evanuris…” He trailed off, looking wistful. “Then it would be enough to do so.” 

“What about you?” she asked, an unsettling feeling that she might never see him again seeping into her as she looked at her friend.

“I am to stay at the Lighthouse.” He replied, “We have all been given assignments for this evening, and the rebellion is stationed throughout the empire via the Eluvians, and we are ready for whatever may come.” 

“Felassan…” she looked at him meaningfully, and he gave her a cheeky grin, brushing her off.

“Come.” he said, offering her his arm, which she took gently. “The Dread Wolf might need his Shield before the evening is through.” 

…

The Golden Halls had always been glorious. Reva remembered when the elves had built them, turning the Forest of the World slowly into a city, and renaming it Arlathan. Satinalia was in full swing, everyone wearing masks as was custom for Falon’Din’s celebrations. The self proclaimed god of death was further inside the mail hall, along with the other Evanuris. The Golden Halls were exceptionally grand tonight, the celebration in full swing in every corner and nook of the grand complex. 

Reva swept through the crowds with practiced ease. She hadn't felt this beautiful in a long time. She was beautiful, and she was dangerous, and she knew it. However, she missed Felassan’s presence at her side. But she also knew she had to do this alone, and she had insisted upon it. She ignored most people’s attempts to get her attention, being polite when necessary. The air of the Golden Halls was thick with magic; she had spent the last week reacclimating to the magic concentrated in the city, but here where such powerful magics gathered, it was especially thick.

The reason being was that all of the Evanuris were here, as were the upstart warlords such as Anaris. Arlathan had not seen such a celebration since the end of the war with the Titans, Felassan had said, and Reva could see it was of special magnificence. The two groups were meeting tonight under the pretense of finally coming to an accord, and the whispers from the servants told her that Fen’Harel had facilitated it all. Centuries of conflict were to end tonight, one way or another. She was glad for her mask, a simple thing compared to the many others, a dark green that simply covered her cheekbones and brows, a stark contrast to the boldness of her dress.

“What a cunning wolf.” She mused, settling into a shadowed alcove of the main hall. Despite the grand decorations, excessive drinking and dancing, she felt uneasy. The servants, each with vallaslin on their faces, carried trays full of food and drink amongst the mingling people. She had tabbed the Evanuris; Elgar’nan, Falon’Din, Dirthamen, Andruil, Sylaise, June, and Ghilan'nain were all bedecked in their most extravagant and gaudy attire, and they were the only ones not wearing masks. Reva noticed that Mythal’s throne still sat next to Elgar’nan’s with the rest of the thrones of the Evanuris. The warlords were all in black and had strange halla masks on. Reva only knew a few of them; Anaris, Daern'thal, and Galdauran. She recognized Anaris because he was the tallest, and his eyes glowed red underneath his mask. It was whispered that the warlords had twisted their bodies, and sought to be different from the Evanuris by dressing in black. After what seemed like hours, she finally saw him.

Solas stood apart from the crowd, no mask on, with no one seemingly willing to go near him. His attire was much the same as it had been the last time she had seen him, and she realized that Felassan was such a little. shit. She could see his shit eating grin in her mind as she saw that her color scheme matched Solas’s, and she made a mental note to beat Felassan within an inch of his life the next time she saw him. Solas’s hair spilled gracefully over his shoulder as it always had, his countenance stern and calculating as he watched the grand ballroom. 

The music swelled, the orchestra filled with people and spirits alike, and the ballroom erupted into applause as the song ended. The conductor however, started another tune, and the party went on. Reva politely took another glass of wine, and kept her gaze on Solas as he decided to step onto the floor. 

The night wore on, and she stayed far enough away that he didn't notice her. Her heart ached, she wanted to run to him, for them to make up, to run as far away from the Elvhenan Empire, across the sea if they had to, but she knew Solas. She knew he would stop at nothing to complete what he set out to do. He would free their people from the yoke of the Evanuris, and he would hopefully, finally be at peace for what had happened with Mythal. Felassan had said no one knew what Solas was planning, and she was afraid for him. 

She drank champagne politely, even engaging in conversations with others when it was necessary. She tried to keep Solas in her sights at all times. The music and the noise of the banquet was loud enough to drown out the cries of the slaves in the pits beneath the palace, but Reva knew they were there, and she shuddered. 

She watched as Anaris, Elgar’nan, and Solas moved toward the thrones near the head of the grand ballroom, the three of them engaged in what appeared to be a barely civil discussion. Solas stood firm, hands behind his back, shoulders back, chin up, gaze sharp as he listened to Anaris speak. Anaris was gesticulating wildly, the mask he wore almost like a halla skull, the curled antlers stark white against the black of the rest of his ensemble. Elgar’nan was…himself. The tallest of all the elves ever born, and the most powerful, the ‘All-Father’, the ‘God’ of the Sun and Vengeance, his skin was a dull grey, the sclera of his eyes black while his eye color was a pale yellow. His outfits were always overly decorative and gaudy, but tonight he had what appeared to be dragon horns on his back, mimicking the crown on his head. She shook her head slightly, as it seemed no matter how much time went by, things here never changed. 

Elgar’nan waved his hand, dismissing the other two men as he returned to the crowd, a wide grin splitting his face as he was immediately beset upon by men and women who were vying for his favor. Anaris seemed content to slink off towards the other warlords, and Solas strode purposefully towards one of the exits, the sea of people parting slightly for him as he exited the ballroom. Reva downed her latest glass, grabbed another one from a passing server, and tried to not run out of the ballroom as she followed him. 

The outer halls were just as crowded, and Reva had to strain to try to see Solas. She caught sight of him turning a far corner, and she made her way towards him. 

“Don't let him out of your sight if you can help it.” Felassan had said. “Who knows what he'll do.” 

She was quite certain Solas hadn't noticed her. She had been to the Golden Halls enough times to realize that he was heading to the center gardens, and as they made their way closer the crowds thinned. The closer they came to the gardens, the more there were elves paired off into the shadows of doors and archways and side rooms, indiscrete love making being had and secrets and gossip being shared. Solas ignored them all, his brow furrowed slightly as he finally made it to where he seemed to have been going. He came to a stop near a huge tree that reached up to the heavens in the corner of the garden, where small wisps danced curiously in its branches, lighting up the silver leaves and sapphire hued trunk of the great tree. She stayed hidden, quiet, watching, and waiting. For a few moments he did nothing but keep his gaze on the wisps in the tree, but then he turned, his gaze sharp.

“I would know why you have been watching me all evening, lethallin.” His voice was low, and his eyes landed where she was hiding behind a door. She balked; how had he sensed her? “Are you an admirer or an assassin? Or perhaps both?” He began to walk towards the shadows where she stood, the stars of the sky above them swirling in the cosmos. She was trying to not panic; she wasn't supposed to talk to him-

“Come into the light,” he commanded, “or I shall tear you from the shadows.” His words were a threat, and Reva swallowed nervously. It didn't seem like he recognized her; that was good. She took a deep breath, smoothed her dress, and turned, slowly stepping into the light of the nearby braziers, and she met Solas’s eyes for the first time in over a century. For a moment neither said anything.

“If you are an assassin, I might enjoy this.” Solas’s voice was low, and she recognized desire in his eyes as he looked at her. 

“If I was an assassin, you would be dead already.” She replied, tilting her head slightly. Solas smirked, moving into her space so that she had to look up at him. 

“So which are you?” His voice was quiet, his eyes raking over her with undisguised lust. “It is not often a magnificent creature such as you comes to me alone, shivering like a leaf.” She hadn't realized she was trembling. He leaned in slightly, barely grinning, revealing the whites of his canines, “Did you think to be eaten by the Dread Wolf this evening?” He murmured, and she felt her breath hitch, her body going hot.

“I would never presume that of you, my lord.” she said quietly.

“I am no lord.” His voice was still low, and she realized he had her cornered against the wall. “You need not address me as such.”

“I meant no disrespect.” She dipped her head slightly; his gaze was too intense and it made her knees weak. “How else should I address one such as you, Fen'Harel?”

For a moment he said nothing, the only noise that of the wind in the trees and the quiet chittering of wisps above their heads. 

“You are…” he trailed off, and she met his gaze again. The magic of her mask must be concealing her identity from him, as Felassan said it would. She had been worried he would see through it after sensing her. “You remind me of someone.” He looked away, his gaze sorrowful and distant, and her heart ached.

“I am sorry.” She said, and he turned his face back to hers.

“There is no need to be sorry, lethallin.” He raised a hand to her cheek, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes, making her cheeks burn. “It is no fault of yours that I am a sentimental fool.”

“Would…you care to talk about it?” She almost whispered, her heart racing. Solas's face betrayed no hint of emotion as he considered her. 

“Perhaps.” He said quietly. “Come, let us sit here in the garden for a while. There is time before the main event.” He turned back to the sapphire tree, and she followed as if on a string. 

“The main event?” She asked curiously. Perhaps he would let something slip. Solas's smirk was cast her way over her shoulder.

“It is one that will be remembered for ages.” He said it as if it was assured,  and she couldn't help feeling slightly nervous at his words. There was a stone bench beneath the tree, tucked away under the branches in a small alcove, the silver of the leaves casting a lovely glow on the bench and the ground. Reva couldn't help admiring Solas as he held his hand out for her to take, the sharp lines of his face as familiar as the dawn to her. She tried to control her breathing as she ever so lightly placed her hand in his. His grip tightened, and she was pulled forward suddenly, stumbling into his arms, and he held her close, his face suddenly far too close to hers for comfort. He grinned wickedly, chuckling, his eyes shining mischievously. 

“Your reactions to me are…intriguing, lethallin.” He murmured, and if she didn't know any better she swore he could feel how fast her heart was racing. 

“My lord, please.” She all but whispered, her face hot from embarrassment and the rest of her hot with something else. He tilted his head slightly, considering her plea.

“Solas.” He said, releasing her, allowing her to sit on the bench first before he sat a respectful distance next to her. “Please.”

“Solas.” She said slowly, trying to maintain the façade that she didn't intimately know him. 

“I apologize once more.” He said, looking away, his eyes returning to the faraway, tortured look. “As I said. You are exceptionally similar to one I hold dearest to me.” Reva's chest tightened at his words.

“It is alright.” She said carefully, placing her hands in her lap to avoid tapping them nervously. 

“Have you ever heard of the Shield of the Dread Wolf?” Reva blinked slowly, biting her lip, keeping her gaze focused on his ear. 

“I have heard the title, yes.” She said as distantly and politely as she could.

“She was…” Solas paused, his lips parted as he seemed to think about what he wanted to say. Reva couldn't help as her gaze was drawn to his profile. He was just as beautiful now as he had been the day she walked away. “I did not deserve her devotion. She made the Vhenan'ara.” Reva of course knew this but she inclined her head in acknowledgment of this great vow. 

“Did you return it?” She asked quietly, knowing the answer. Solas's gaze was still so far away.

“I did not, fool that I am.” He answered after a few moments. She drew a rattled breath. The noise did not escape his notice and he looked at her, a bemused expression on his face. “Does that bother you, lethallin?” 

“My opinion could not possibly matter on something so deeply personal to you my-Solas.” She caught herself, and his eyes crinkled slightly as his lips turned up into a hint of a smile. 

“Perhaps I am interested in hearing your opinion.” He said gently, and Reva forgot how to breathe. 

“But…” her mind raced. Her and Felassan had not prepared her at all for a situation like this. She had already messed up by engaging him in conversation. “Surely not.” she finished lamely, and Solas’s gaze seemed to grow sharper as he considered her.

“What is your opinion on this, my lady?” he asked, a command in his tone that allowed for no discussion. Reva swallowed nervously, trying to calm her heart, and she looked back at her hands, unable to look him in the eyes any longer.

“If you loved her the same, you would make the vow.” she said quietly. “There is nothing more painful than a one sided love.” her voice couldn’t hide her emotion.

“But it was not one sided.” Solas said, and she met his gaze again, feeling her passion ignite at the stupidity of this man she so dearly loved.

“How could she know, if you did not tell her?” she challenged, and a flash of anger crossed Solas’s face. 

“I-” he stopped, looking away, his jaw tightening. “I did tell her,” he said quietly.

“Yet you did not make the vow.” she replied evenly. For a few moments, neither said anything else.

“How curious, that tonight of all nights, someone would appear and challenge me.” Solas said, his voice laced with amusement. Reva felt a momentary panic; had he recognized her? “If it pleases you, I would enjoy your company for a bit longer.” he said, his eyes meeting hers once more. His eyes were the color of the sea on a stormy day, yet still tinged with purple. 

“I…” she faltered. This was what she had wanted, wasn’t it? To be with him under no pretenses? But he did not recognize her, and she had made no move to reveal herself. He was looking at her though, and she found she could not refuse him, even now. “It would please me, indeed. If you are alright staying here, in the garden.” she added, and Solas smiled, a genuine smile, one she hadn’t seen in ages.

“I would enjoy that.” he replied quietly, and so they sat there in the alcove, hidden from view, talking about everything and anything that came to mind. Reva found herself laughing at Solas’s dry humor, the two of them going back and forth as if there had never been wars or broken hearts between them. She found herself leaning closer to him, tucking her hair behind her ears on occasion, Solas watching the movement with barely disguised hunger. He shifted closer to her, their hands brushing slightly, each touch sending a jolt of electricity through her. He inclined his head as they spoke, his eyes tracing every curve of her body, and her entire body went hotter each time he did so. It was as if they were the only two in the world, there in that alcove. Reva hadn’t felt such peace in a long time.

The bells began to chime, signaling midnight, and Reva realized that they had talked for hours. Her heart fell as she knew this time with Solas was coming to an end and she did not want it to. 

“You are one of the central figures tonight,” Reva said gently. They had shifted closer as they had conversed, their shoulders brushing. She could not help her attraction to him, and his eyes betrayed his apparent want of her as well. 

“I am certain Elgar’nan will start with or without me.” Solas said dryly, and Reva couldn’t help giggling. “Besides, I am not needed for them to announce the accord.” He leaned a bit closer, his shoulder a warm presence against her. Her heart pounded in her ears as he ever so tenderly took her hand in his, bringing her hand close to his face, and his lips grazed her knuckles as he looked at her. She wanted him to kiss her, she wanted to kiss him , and he gently pulled her hand close to his chest, his hand over hers as his eyes searched hers. 

“So tell me,” he said quietly, his other hand swiftly coming up to cup her cheek, his thumb grazing her skin leaving sparks in its wake. “What is your name?” Reva’s mind went blank. Shit.  

“My name?” she whispered, unable to focus on anything but him. He was taking up all of her vision, his presence overpowering, despite it having been so long, he still smelled of the earth after a rain, of fresh parchment, and a certain musk that was distinctly his that filled her senses and left her breathless. Solas chuckled darkly, his eyes half closed as he regarded her.

“Was it Anaris who sent you?” he asked, “Or Elgar’nan?” he lifted his hand from her cheek, his fingers ghosting over her neck, the pads of his fingers going down over her collarbone, his fingers trailing down her chest, barely touching the swell of her breasts, and she couldn’t help the sharp inhale as desire flooded her. 

“N-neither.” she managed to say, and she found herself leaning into him, her lips parted slightly as his fingers traced lazy lines up and down her chest. She could feel her nipples harden, begging to be touched underneath the soft fabric that barely concealed them, and she pressed her legs together, trying to control the desire that had been building all evening. He tilted his head slightly, his eyes raking over her form once more, his hand still holding hers captive against his chest.

“No.” he agreed, “You are not what I would have expected from them.”

“So what does that mean?” she asked, her voice far sultrier than she had intended. Solas grinned, the whites of his canines flashing at her as he did so, his grin wolfish.

“Did you think a simple mask would keep me from recognizing you Reva?” his voice was low, and she stilled. “Ah, you did not think I recognized you this whole time.”

“You asked me my name.” Reva’s voice was cold as she realized he had played her. He chuckled, his hand still holding hers against his chest, and his other hand still tracing lines along her bare skin. 

“I did.” he looked almost gleeful, truly like the trickster that most made him out to be. “I was hoping you would reveal yourself, but I could not wait any longer.” The hand tracing her skin moved to her cheek once more, tilting her face up to look up at him. Reva felt a mixture of emotions; desire, embarrassment, relief. “Not when it has been so long.” he whispered, and Reva’s heart fluttered at his tone. She raised her free hand to her mask, and gently took it off, letting it fall to the ground. Solas looked at her as if he had never seen anything more beautiful; his gaze was almost reverent. 

“You are so beautiful.” he said, and she couldn’t help smiling shyly at him. This man was so bad for her heart. “Why are you here?” he asked, his thumb stroking her cheek, as if unwilling to let her go.

“I could not let you be here alone.” she whispered. She hadn't meant to whisper, but Solas brought his nose close to hers, and she felt the want building in her throat as his lips got tantalizingly close to hers.

“You must leave.” His voice was suddenly cold and it caught her off guard. “I walk the Din'an Shir'al. There is only death where I will go.” His eyes searched hers, a century of unspoken words passing between them. 

“I will walk it with you.” She pressed, and Solas inhaled sharply. “I gave you my heart.” Her voice wavered as the emotion caught up to her. “It has always been yours, and I will always follow you.”

“Then why did you leave?” His eyes betrayed his hurt; her leaving had cut him as deeply as it had her.

“You were not yourself.” She said quietly, and for a moment he said nothing. His eyes searched hers, his lips pressed in a thin line as he tried to see what she would not say. 

“Why are you here?” He asked again, and Reva was reminded of how he had found her all those years ago and she had asked him the same question.

“I am here to protect you if I must.” She said, and Solas snorted, his mouth turning up into a smirk. 

“You are not stronger than any of them.” He said, his eyes searching hers. For a moment neither said anything, and his gaze turned wistful. “You have always been resplendent.” He pulled away, releasing her hand and dropping his, and he leaned forward, his elbows on his legs as he leaned, and he looked away from her. “Tonight is no exception.” he said, and Reva wasn’t sure how to react. She had been sure he was going to kiss her. She was a little upset he hadn’t.

“You are not stronger than any of them either.” she said, settling her hands in her lap. Solas said nothing.

“Felassan should not have allowed you to come here.” he said, looking at her from the corner of his eye.

“I insisted upon coming.” she said, and Solas stood, closing his eyes. He looked down at her, opening his eyes as he extended a hand for her to take.

“I have never been able to stop you from doing what you will.” she gingerly took his hand, and he pulled her to her feet. They gazed at each other perhaps a moment too long.

“I told you, I am walking the Din’an Shir’al.” he still held her hand, and she squeezed it in response.

“Banal nadas. Ar lath ma vhenan.” she said, taking his other hand in hers as well.

"Ar ghilas vir banal." He sounded so sad, and broken, and her heart ached for him.

“Tel banal ara'ma vir shiral ma'lasa belanaras.” She reassured him, and then she stood on her toes to kiss him lightly on the cheek. Solas seemed taken aback by her words, and he pulled her into a hug. He allowed his magic to brush against hers, and she felt the truth of his emotions, almost making her knees buckle under the weight.

“I vow to you, Vhenan’ara.” he said in her ear, and once more her heart skipped. “In sal'shiral i've'an din.” 

“Solas…” her voice wavered as he held her tightly, and she returned his embrace. The wisps in the tree above them chittered their approval from a distance, and as Solas pulled back to look at her, she couldn’t help smiling at him. 

“Ir abelas.” he said, “I am sorry it took me so long.” She could have cried.

“I forgive you.” she whispered, and Solas leaned in as if to kiss her-

Screams erupted from the main hallways of the Golden Halls, and Solas pulled away, swearing. He looked at her, resignation on his face.

“It has begun.” he said, “Quickly.” He grabbed her hand, and they started running. Reva lost her shoes somewhere along the way, but she paid it no mind as Solas pulled her through the flood of people trying to run away from the red tendrils of magic that floated through the air. Just as suddenly as the screaming had started, suddenly the earth shuddered, a huge noise erupting all around them as the earth groaned and the cries of millions of slaves perishing all at once coalesced into the air in a symphony of despair. Reva and Solas stumbled, and he grabbed her to keep her from falling as the Halls shimmered with an excess of magic. Reva clung to Solas as it felt like the entire complex was pulled through an Eluvian, and Reva couldn’t see outside but she could feel it in the sudden change of the air.

“Solas, what’s happening?” Reva couldn’t hide her fear, and he looked at her. 

“Elgar’nan has performed a blood magic ritual to transport the Golden Halls to another part of the Empire in a show of power.” he said bitterly, once again pulling her towards the main hall. They raced through the hallways, where not even ten minutes ago people had been merry making and dancing, now there was no one. “He has sacrificed not only all of the slaves he could find, but all of the guests as well.” Solas said bitterly, and Reva’s chest tightened. They neared the main hall, where the Evanuris were battling with the warlords; they seemed to be evenly matched.

“Solas, how did we not-”

“There is no time to explain.” He said, and he looked at her, his hands on her shoulders. “Reva, know this. I love you more than life itself.” she felt her heart drop, panic beginning to rise.

“Solas, what-” He kissed her, and it was a desperate, all consuming kiss, his feelings flooding her as he allowed the wellspring of his magic to overflow. She returned his kiss in confusion and fear, but before she could say anything she felt a shackle on her wrist as he pulled away.

“Stay here, where you will be safe.” He turned and ran into the main hallway, the lingering magic of the ritual still shimmering in the air. She saw that he had magically shackled her to a pillar, and she began to struggle against it.

“No.” she whispered, fighting the enchantment with everything she could muster. She could see into the main hallway, where she watched him pull a foci out of his pocket, and raise it to the sky. She could barely hear herself scream as his magic exploded outwards from the foci, and the Evanuris and the warlords were all caught in the blast.

“BETRAYER!” she heard Anaris scream;

“You will pay the ultimate price for this betrayal!! ” Elgar’nan yelled, his voice echoing all around them. Solas’s magic ripped outwards, a blast hitting each one of the Evanuris and the warlords. The warlords vanished into what looked like a black abyss, but the Evanuris were stronger, and the seven of them stood firm against Solas’s magic. Reva ripped herself from the enchantment holding her, and she watched in horror as Solas’s magic began to create what appeared to be a bubble around them.

“For enslaving our people,” Solas’s voice was powerful, the strength of his magic creating a wind that blew his hair back, “For your tyranny and abuses of power, for the use of the Blight, and for the murder of Mythal,” Reva saw what Solas did not. Solas was focused entirely on creating whatever it was he was doing, but Elgar’nan was moving. Reva moved faster. “I sentence you to sleep in exile ever after! Your own lives will form the veil that keeps the horror you unleashed at bay.” All of the Evanuris released a terrible kind of guttural, bone chilling cry, but Reva paid them no mind. She jumped in front of Solas right as Elgar’nan released his final attack, and the dagger Elgar’nan had thrown embedded itself through her spine and chest, her back to the Evanuris as she shielded Solas one last time.

“NO!!” Solas cried, but it was too late. She stood there, her magic holding her up as the ritual Solas was doing completed, a vacuum like sound filling the air around them. The Evanuris vanished and the world shattered around them. She slumped into Solas, his words far away, as she felt her life drain. She wanted to comfort him, but found she could not raise her arms. How odd. Her eyes went up to the sky behind Solas. The Golden Halls had vanished with the Evanuris it seemed.

“You did it.” she managed to get out, and she felt something warm on her lips. Blood? Maybe. They were in the mountains. When had they gone to the mountains? Solas said something she couldn’t hear. He was cradling her, and he was crying. She wanted to comfort him. She couldn’t move. She reached out with her magic, but found it was weak; so very weak. Oh how she loved him. She must be dying.

“I am glad I was your Shield.” she whispered, and Solas grabbed her hand. His eyes were blue, and she smiled. “Ar lath ma, vhenan.” She tried to hold onto him, but she had never felt so weak. She could feel him trying to heal her, but his magic was fading just as quickly. He was entering uthenera, and she felt herself slipping away. The last thing she saw was Solas crying against the backdrop of snow covered mountains. 

Chapter Text

Reva opened her eyes to see the grays of the Fade prison above her. She closed her eyes again, a hand going to her chest to make sure she didn't have a hole there from where Elgar’nan had stabbed her-

No, that was from…before. She remembered. She remembered the creation of the Veil, even if they hadn't known that's what it was at the time. Her blood had unknowingly been a part of its creation, a part of the ritual when her blood had been shed during it. Her mind ached, the weight of her memories almost too much. Her mortal mind struggled with it, but here in the Fade, it seemed to lessen the load. Maybe that was why she remembered now, being stuck In the Fade physically instead of in a dream.

Solas.

That back stabbing, beautiful, scheming, clever, stupid man-

Opening her eyes once more, she forced herself to sit up.

“This is…” This was the ledge that Solas had spoken to her from. Where he had manipulated her from. She stood up slowly, her body feeling foreign and sluggish. Her head hurt. She had just remembered dying, painfully, and now she had to reconcile the weight of Solas’s vow to her with the weight of what he had just done. To say ‘it hurt’ didn’t do the pain justice.

She walked away from the ledge, knowing staying there wouldn’t help anyone. She had to get back, to Neve, Harding, Taash, Emmrich, Lucanis, Bel-

The crushing weight of her guilt over Bellara and Davrin made her stumble. She caught herself before she fell, but it was as if she were carrying huge sacks of sand on her back. That wasn’t the only regret she felt though.

“Through our connection…tried to mold me into something like…him.” She spoke if only to fill the silence. Solas had been, no, was, still an all-powerful mage like the Evanuris. Reva had never even come close to being half as good at Solas at casting magic, but she knew enough. Not enough to construct a prison in the Fade where the key was regret. Who thought up of a thing?? Suddenly she was struck with powerful images flashing through her mind-

He kneeled, gently picking up the pieces of the broken foci after the battle with Corypheus. The Inquisitor stood nearby, bloody, bruised, still alive, still using the anchor that only he could have wielded. He remembered her. He had never seen her look as beautiful as before that night, her spirit shining brightly amongst the crowds even if the flimsy attempts of concealment magic hovered near her. He always recognized her, and it took every ounce of self-restraint to not go to her, demand answers, and then make love to her. But, he had not, and had instead drawn her away from the hall where he knew Elgar’nan would start his ritual. He made the vow, and he felt the way it bound his spirit to hers, and for a moment he had felt complete in a way he hadn’t since he had left the Fade. She had been what he had been looking for all this time, and he would spend the rest of his life telling her and making it up to her. But then, her eyes staring up into the sky above them, lifeless, her body bloody and broken even as he tried to heal her. He had just gotten her back, only to lose her forever, and she had not hesitated to jump in front of the dagger meant for him-he had failed her, again.

She gasped, holding her chest again as she saw the memory from Solas’s point of view. She cried, Solas’s spirit and hers were forever entwined, just as they had always been, but it was deeper now, with the vow made between them. She hadn’t been able to feel it because she hadn’t remembered, and her spirit had unintentionally hidden those aspects from her mind. Reva screamed into the nothingness around her, and her voice faded away amongst the ruins that floated in the prison. After she had cried, she sniffled, drying her face with what was left of her sleeve, and she kept moving. If she got out of here-when she got out of here, first thing she was doing was jumping in the closest body of water to get clean. She kept moving.

She should have been there for him. She should have stayed with him. He had made a good point, why did she follow Solas and leap into danger for him when Solas would not do the same for her? Love? Devotion? She saw the hurt in Felassan’s eyes when she walked away to join Solas once more. She could have saved him, perhaps kept Solas from killing him, but she hadn’t been there because she chosen to go to Solas. To die for Solas. And what good did that to for her oldest friend? He was dead, because of her choices.

“Felassan.” She fell to her knees this time, the tears coming unbidden. Remembering what she did now, the weight of his death was crushing her. His easy smile, the light of his eyes, his sharp wit and unyielding loyalty not just to her or Solas but to the cause of freeing the People.

“What did I say? You’re not the one who stabbed me in the back.” She looked up, searching. In front of her where previously there had been nothing, sat a chest. She had heard Felassan, but he was nowhere in sight. She was in the Fade; it could be a trick or a part of the prison. “Open the chest, lethallin. What’s inside will help you with our wayward friend.” His voice was soft, but unmistakable. She once again wiped the tears away, and on her knees trudged over to the chest, popping it open. The chest’s lid was light, and she looked inside.

“My shield.” She whispered, the tears threatening to fall again. Inside was the large, triangular shield with the engraved image of the Dread Wolf upon it. She could have laughed; was this what she needed?

“I imagine it isn’t, but it can’t hurt anything.” She spun, and there stood Felassan, smiling sadly at her.

“Felassan.” She whispered, her resolve failing, and she crumbled to the ground, holding the sides of the chest, sobbing.

“Hey now…” Felassan walked over, kneeling down next to her, and he placed his hand on her back as she cried, the pain and hurt of simply everything coming out in empty sobs. She was crying so hard that she wasn’t making any noise, her eyes clenched shut as fat hot tears rolled down her cheeks. “It’s alright. You’ll get out of here.”

“H-how?” she stammered, trying to open her eyes, but they were slightly swollen from crying so hard and her eyes were still very wet.

“For starters, you can’t stop here.” He said, hoisting her to her feet. Her shoulders still shook, and she knew she must look absolutely pathetic. She was trying to control her breathing, and Felassan was strangely solid for being a spirit.

“We can’t keep meeting like this.” She said, and Felassan laughed, the sound foreign in this dull, grayed out world she was in.

“Well, get out and we won’t have to.” He said with a grin, and he pulled her shield out of the chest and handed it to her. She took it gently, smoothing one hand over the image of the six eyed wolf on the front.

“Did…did he-“

“Dumb bastard probably put it in here as part of his ‘regrets’.” Felassan said dryly. “But, I think, you know how to move past them.” She mechanically put the shield on her back, the weight nonexistent. The ancient elves had known how to make weapons impossibly light.

“How do you think?” she asked, her tears drying as she once again wiped her eyes on her sleeve. She ripped a bit of fabric from her cloak and blew her nose on it, and Felassan made a face.

“Disgusting.”

“Part of life.” He grinned at her.

“See? That’s how you move past it. But you knew that already.” He said, and suddenly a broken staircase materialized in front of her, leading up towards statues that she recognized as Bellara. “You have to face your regrets, which Solas is currently unable to do.”

“I have lived, and grown.” Reva said, the understanding dawning on her. “I can.”

“I’m glad I could help.” He said, and she grabbed his hand before he could turn to leave.

“How? How are you here?” she asked, “Aren’t you…”

“Dead? I believe so.” He said, giving her a half smile. “Maybe I’m in your head. I could be part of your regrets.” He raised an eyebrow at her. Her lip quivered as she bit back another sob.

“I can’t-I’m not-“ she shuddered, “I’m not strong enough.” She whispered, looking into his eyes, desperately wishing for another way, for her friend to be with her again. Felassan smiled sadly, squeezing her hand.

“Well, until next time, alright?” he said, “You have to let me go.” She felt a few tears slide down her cheeks again. “I’ll always be with you, in your heart. As stupid as that sounds.” Reva chuckled, trying to keep herself from crying more.

“Until next time, my friend.” She whispered. Felassan smiled, and he pulled his hand away as he faded away as if made of smoke.

“Hey kid.” Varric’s voice echoed in her mind, and she looked up at the stairs. “Come on. Solas found a way out. Now you need to find yours.”

“Varric?” Reva asked, but she was met with no answer.  She kept climbing up the stairs, seeing statues of Bellara instead. Bellara’s voice echoed all around her, accusing her of letting her die.

“You’re right. You’re my friend, Bellara. We had to get those wards down, and you knew that. I made a choice, and I live with the choices I make. The successes, and the failures. And Bellara knew what it might cost.” Reva said to a statue of Bellara, and then she heard Varric once more.

“She did, kid. We all did. Because you always chose the hard truth over the easy lie. Even when you were fighting the rebellion with Solas.”  She had made it to a platform with no apparent way forward, but then another staircase appeared. “Solas, on the other hand…”

“Everyone’s a pawn to someone like Solas.” Davrin’s voice echoed now, and Reva felt the pain of the accuracy of that statement.

He had a hard time dealing with the truth of reincarnation. He had heard of it, but to see it? For her to be here, after he had watched her die, watched her bleed out in front of him, for him, it was almost an insult to her memory-and yet. Yet everything about this woman who Varric had named Rook reminded him so much of her it almost hurt. Her eyes were the same shade, the same shape, her lips were the same, he imagined her entire body probably melted with a single touch if he tried-

It turned out he was right. She might not remember everything but her spirit did, and her spirit was different and yet the same. Different in having been molded some by being reborn and being forced to live as a mortal, but the same in that his spirit recognized hers in a visceral, intimate way and he had not felt this connection since she had died-

She couldn’t do it. She had abandoned him then, and now…it had to be him. He had to mold her into someone the prison would accept. It fell to him, again, to make those sacrifices…starting with her.

Solas’s thoughts overran her own for a moment, and she leaned against the statue of Bellara as a statue of Davrin appeared on the steps. She controlled her breathing, feeling angry at the betrayal, at his lack of trust, that he had known it was her from the beginning and he had still-

She kept moving. She would just have to punch him in the face when she got out of this place.

“’Whatever it takes’.” Davrin’s voice said as she climbed the winding staircase. “That’s what you told us.” She kept running, through a doorway that looked like a door to the Lighthouse. “And you lived that…every day. Especially when you…I guess you remembered your past life. Weird flex but we made it work.” She came to another statue of Davrin, and she looked up at her friend. She already missed him terribly. “You helped me rescue the griffons. Got ‘em to Arlathan. You asked a lot of us. Of the team.” There was a pause. “But you asked even more of yourself.” She was walking now, and there was a final statue of Davrin, waiting. Maker but she would miss her friend so much. “After everything you’ve done? It was my turn to make the sacrifice. And I’d do it again.”

“I’m going to miss you, Davrin.” Reva wasn’t sure she had any tears left to cry, but her voice warbled all the same. “We fought together. Bled together. And anytime I needed you, you were there. And so was Assan. But the fight’s not over yet.” She took a deep breath. “So I promise you this. I’m going to get out of here, and I’m going to stop Elgar’nan.” She swallowed, closing her eyes for a second. “And I’m going to stop Solas. We’ll all save the world, and make sure that your sacrifice was worth it.”

“Great job, kid. Now…” Reva looked behind her as part of the wall disappeared to reveal a hallway. “What about mine?” she walked down the hallway, and pushed open the doors at the end.

“That’s…”

“Where it all began.” The site where they had initially disrupted Solas’s ritual lay before her. Not an exact replica, but pretty damn close. She felt her body shaking as she walked towards it, the statues of the Evanuris rising as one the closer she got.

“What am I going to see there?”

“I think you already know.” Varric’s voice was as steady as it had always been, and the feeling of dread in her stomach began to rise. It was if the lock on her mind had been broken when she fell into the Fade. The closer she got, more landmarks erected themselves, the sounds of rock rearranging itself echoing around her. She got close to the stairs leading to the dais where Solas had been standing when they had arrived, and she heard herself from a memory.

“We’ve got your back. If anyone can get through to him, you can.”

“Thanks Rook. Whatever else he is, he’s my friend.” Reva saw him in her mind; greying hair, the scars over his eye, the crossbow he was known for. “If he won’t listen to me…then he’ll hear from Bianca.”  Reva saw the scene play out. Solas on the dais, lyrium dagger in hand, the Veil being cut open with his magic, and Varric, standing on the steps, pleading for Solas to listen.

“You need to listen!” Solas looked at his one-time friend, his brow furrowed, his eyes a vivid purple. “Please.” Varric had begged him. Solas broke the crossbow with a blast of magic, and returned to cutting the Veil. That was when Rook and Neve had pushed the huge monument, causing it to topple, creating a distraction as Solas had to pause and keep the enormous stones from crushing him. In that moment, Varric took his chance to grab the dagger. But Solas was stronger, and as he fought Varric, the blade twisted, and Solas drove it into Varric’s heart. Varric had fallen down the steps, and Rook had dragged herself over to him, the wind and the magic almost too much. Varric struggled for a moment, gasping as blood filled his lungs, and Reva watched it all happen again, a ghastly green light shining from Varric and the dagger. Rook was looking around, yelling for Harding, as Varric struggled against the force of magic around him. Rook looked up and saw the Veil tear open as Ghilan’nain and Elgar’nan appeared behind Solas, and Varric grabbed the dagger in his chest. With a great effort he pulled it out, the dagger being flung to the side, and Rook looked down at the man she had come to know as a father and a friend.

“Rook…” he had blood coming out of his nose and mouth, blood was splattered across his chest and coat, and then his head turned, his body giving out. The force of the magic in the air as Solas was sucked into the Fade ricocheted outwards, and Rook was thrown back into the stone wall behind her, violently hitting her head. Reva watched the memory as if she had been watching it happen, as Harding dragged Rook away, and Neve coming to check on Varric only to find-

Reva stood there in the prison, at the memory of Varric’s body lying on the ground in front of her. She clenched her fists, and grit her teeth, feeling the rage boil up inside.

“Solas killed you.” She said, bitterness lacing her tone. Just as he had killed Felassan. “His friend. You tried to talk to him. To reason with him. Just like Felassan would have done.” She inhaled sharply. “And he cut you down anyway.”

“Pretty sure he didn’t mean to.”

“Oh that makes it better?” Reva asked, spinning to find Varric standing there. She knew though that it wasn’t really him, just like it hadn’t really been Felassan earlier. “It doesn’t matter. You’re still dead.”

“Yeah.” Varric came to stand by her, and they both looked down at his body. “Sorry about that, kid. Though I guess you’re not really a kid at all, huh?” he snorted. “Reincarnated. Who would have thought. That’s a twist not even I could have come up with.” Reva closed her eyes, breathing heavily.

“You know, I think I knew.” She said, opening her eyes again. “It was like every time I thought of how you had survived or why you weren’t getting better I would get a headache, and forget. But I couldn’t face it, like I couldn’t face Felassan.”

“Why not?” Such a simple question.

“Because it would mean admitting that I let you die.”

“Shit. Didn’t you learn anything from this place?” Varric asked, waving his hand as he walked forward to look at her. “I made the choice. To talk to him. To try to reach him.” Varric pointed at the dais where Solas had stood. “Even knowing the risks, because he was my friend.” Varric’s brows were drawn as he looked at her. “My decision. My sacrifice. And you don’t get to take that from me.” Something blossomed in Reva’s chest as she realized: Varric was right. The sand bags of guilt she had been carrying felt infinitely lighter now.

“But-“

“Every story’s got an ending. This one…just came a little earlier than I’d planned.” Varric said, turning his back to her as he looked up at the dais once more.

“So…all this time, Neve and Harding…” Reva was almost shell shocked with the realization that everyone else must have known he was dead. “Why didn’t anyone tell me? I saw you, in the room with us, you were in the conversations-“

“Was I? Or did your mind fill in the blanks?” Varric asked, not unkindly. “And they thought you knew. You’re the only one that wasn’t in on it.” He looked from her to the dais again, and she looked as well. This time, there was a large white tear at the top, not dissimilar to the tear that had appeared during the ritual.

“Now, it’s time to finish this story. Your story. And I know the ending is going to be killer.” Varric began walking up to the tear, and Reva felt herself following him.

“What happens now? To you?”

“I’ll disappear. Go back to being a memory.”

“Right…”

“Hey. Don’t get all misty-eyed on me, okay?” Reva turned to look at her friend. She would miss him so much, and it hurt. “I had a good run. And I don’t regret a second of it.”

“What about…” she couldn’t say his name. Her and Varric reached the top of the stairs, the dais empty.

“You should know better than anyone what to do with Solas.” Varric said with a chuckle. “Solas wants to be a hero. That’s who he is, deep down. But it’s easier for him to play the villain. Because that means he didn’t fail. All the damage he’s done, the people he’s hurt; it becomes a choice.” Varric clapped her on the arm, a slight smile on his face. “Remind him who he really is. He might just listen.” Reva looked at the tear before them.

“So…how do I get out?” she asked, and Varric began walking back down the stairs.

“Listen to your team. Like you always do.” He said, stopping to look at her.

“This way. It’s thinner here.” She heard Emmrich, and her heart jumped.

“Better be right.” It was Taash. She could have cried again; they had come for her.

“They’re waiting for you.” Varric said, and she swallowed, looking back at Varric. “Just take it one step at a time.”

“Goodbye Varric.” She said quietly, “and thank you.”

“Rook!” she heard Lucanis next.

“Looking forward to how it turns out.” Varric said with a wistful smile. “I’d say good luck but…you don’t need it. You already have everything you need.” He said, pointing at her heart. Reva smiled at him once more as she heard Emmrich exclaim that he saw a light.

“Get ready.” Reva threw her arm out as Lucanis’ came through the tear, and she felt several hands grab her forearm all at once.

“HEAVE!” Taash yelled, and Reva was pulled through the gray into a blinding world of color.

Chapter Text

“So in the what, four, five days I was in the Fade prison, Elgar’nan seized control of the Archon’s palace in Minrathous, blighted the city, and no one can go in or out?” Reva asked, staring at her team as they were gathered in the library to discuss what needed to be done next. 

“We can’t even get word to the Shadow Dragons.” Neve said quietly, “All of the city’s Eluvians have gone dark.”

“They appear to still be fighting though, last we heard.” Harding said. 

“They’d be dead already if not for Solas.” Reva felt her eye twitch at the mention of his name.

“Solas?” she asked, keeping her voice calm.

“He got to Minrathous just before the gates were sealed. Made a show of saving some civilians and killing Venatori.” Lucanis said, sounding unimpressed. 

“Now it seems like everyone who can fight is following Solas, as if he’s the only one who can save them.” Harding said, rolling her eyes. Reva put her thumb to her mouth in thought.

“He’s just using them and anyone else to give him a clear shot at Elgar’nan.” Reva said bitterly, looking away. “Then he’ll finish his ritual and the world will be dead anyway, because it’ll drown in demons.” Reva remembered the world of before; somehow she couldn’t find a truly good reason to restore it. 

“Reva…” Emmrich said tentatively, and Reva’s eyes met the senior necromancer’s. “Since you remember everything now…do you not agree with Solas’s decision?” he asked, and Reva glanced around the room at the people who had grown to trust her as their leader.

“No.” she said, and there was an audible sigh of relief from everyone. “I remember from before more clearly now. A world without the Veil makes mages like Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain possible, and look at what they've done.” She was bitter, angry, and needed to hit something. “Somehow and I’m not sure how, I have to convince Solas not to bring it down.”

“What if you have to kill him?” Lucanis asked, and Reva froze momentarily. Sure she was beyond pissed at the bastard, and he had only willfully manipulated her mind and emotions on more than one occasion just in the last couple months, but if it came down to it, would she be able to kill him if she had to? 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” she said after a moment of silence, and Taash made a noncommittal noise that sounded suspiciously like ‘sure’. “Get the word out to our allies, make sure your weapons and armor are ready, and get some rest. Tomorrow, we storm Minrathous.”

-.-.-.

Reva saw him before he saw her. He looked powerful, his magic glowing a blue green as he threw the blight tendrils back as if they were toys. Her anger was palpable; yet her dumb love addled brain still took the time to admire how good Solas looked from behind. 

Solas had thrown the huge blight tendrils away from the broken plaza, and as he looked over his shoulder to check on Tarquin and the Viper, he saw Reva instead. She hoped she looked angry. His eyes widened slightly, a mixture of emotion crossing his face before he put the mask back on. They stood there, looking at each other as if nothing else was there. Solas turned, and he began walking down the rubble towards her, his eyes never leaving hers. It was as if everything she had planned on saying to him vacated her brain as soon as she made eye contact with him. 

She was so focused on the intensity of his gaze that she didn't even notice the huge tendril coming for her, but Solas did. He turned his head, his eyes glowing as he reached out, his hand glowing with magic as he grabbed the tendril with it, and the force of it being thrown away from them was enough to cause a gust of wind to blow Reva's hair out of her face as she flinched. Solas turned back to her, slowly lowering his arm, and his eyes slowly stopped glowing. She found she could not read his gaze. His jaw was set, brows slightly furrowed, shoulders back, and even despite him trapping her in the Fade, she found her anger softening just by looking at him. 

“You…are as surprising as ever.” Solas's voice cut Reva to her core. Solas’s eyes held a mix of awe, surprise, and… he withheld the rest of his emotions, and she grit her teeth in frustration. “Not even I could have escaped that prison. For you to have managed it…”

“Don’t sound so fucking surprised.” She strode up to him, defiantly raising her chin to glare at him. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't punch you in your stupid face right now for the shit you pulled.” Reva almost growled. “You killed Felassan. You killed Varric.”

“Yes.” Solas looked resigned to her anger, which only served to make her angrier. “I was wrong to do so, and I am sorry-”

“I don't know which I'm angrier about, honestly.” Reva snarled, and Solas visibly flinched at her tone. “The fact that you murdered our oldest and dearest friend, or the fact that you killed Varric and then used blood magic on me to keep me seeing him!” 

“I was desperate.” Solas said, as if that was a good reason. “Unless I escaped the world would fall to tyranny and blight. My only tool was my tenuous connection to you-”

“So you admit it, I am nothing but a tool.” Reva's voice broke, and Solas looked stricken at the ramifications of what he had just said.

“You know that is not true-”

“You knew who I was before I did!” She shouted, stepping into his space. He stood firm, chin up, returning her glare. “I saw your memories, your thoughts in the prison.” she spat, and his jaw visibly tightened and something akin to sorrow crossed his features, but only for a second. “If you knew, we could have worked together but no-”

“You know why I could not say anything-”

“Damn it Solas!” she would not cry, she absolutely would not- 

“We do not have time for this.” He said icily, and Reva glared at him. He made to turn away but Reva grabbed his forearm, pulling him forcefully back to face her. Their faces were close enough that she could count all the freckles on his face if she wanted-

“I'm not done with you yet.” She hissed, and Solas’s eyes searched hers, a look of surprise on his face. “When this is over, and it will be over soon, you and I are going to have a very long chat." She said it threateningly, but even as she said it Solas’s gaze softened as he looked at her and she scowled to keep from doing the same. She would not allow her attraction or love for him to cloud her anger this time. 

“Reva…” his voice was low, only for her, and she pressed her lips into a thin line in aggravation. He was not allowed to seduce her in the middle of a warzone.

“What was it? ‘Only you could make the sacrifices leadership requires'?” She felt herself smirking at him. “And that you would start with me?” He flinched as if she had struck him, and she might as well have. 

“I am sorry.” He said, his voice breaking as he looked into her eyes, searching. “I betrayed you because I believed only I could save this world from Elgar’nan.” He pulled his arm away from her, and instead took her hand, weaving his fingers through hers. He looked down at her, and she wavered as his eyes flickered to blue. Maker's breath, even with everything he had done, the betrayal, the lies, she still loved him more than life itself. 

“But I have failed. I cannot reach Elgar’nan. I have not even slain his Archdemon.” He closed his eyes for a second, and Reva realized how utterly tired he looked. He probably hadn't slept in days. He met her gaze again, taking a small step closer, squeezing her hand ever so slightly. “The victories that have come since Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain were released have been yours , not mine.” 

“I'm surprised you didn't choke saying that.” Reva muttered, and Solas snorted, his lips quirking upwards in a half smile at her. 

“If we are to save this world, we must work together.” He said, his eyes pleading with her. Reva took a deep breath.

“Oh yeah? Then what? You drown the world in demons?” she asked, glaring at him in hopefully the most menacing way she could. Solas’s brow furrowed a bit more, the way it did when he was aggravated or impatient, the scar above his eyebrow being highlighted in the dim light around them. 

“If joining me and stopping Elgar’nan requires that the Veil stay in place, then I will pay that price unflinching.” She continued to glare at him, and he took a breath, taking her other hand in his. She couldn’t help it that her heart skipped when he did so. He leaned in closer, his forehead almost touching hers, his eyes boring into hers and she found she couldn’t breathe. He had no right to look this good and this sad and everything all at once - “I swear by my own foolish pride, by love for friends I’ve failed and hurt, by everything I ever held as sacred-” his voice fell, so only she could hear him, and she couldn’t help glancing at his lips. She pressed her tongue against the back of her teeth, pouting slightly as he continued, “I will leave the Veil untroubled.” She swallowed nervously. He was doing it again. “It will never come down by my hand.” She said nothing, and he moved slightly, his lips parting just a bit as if he were going to kiss her. She instinctively lifted her head slightly, wanting to kiss him, needing to, but he pulled away, letting her hands go and turning, and she felt the loss in her soul. 

“Now, if you will come with me, I can show you what has prevented me from reaching Elgar’nan.” he said, beginning to walk away, and she turned to him. He looked back at her, his expression unreadable. “And you can tell me your plan.” She scoffed, shaking her head, but he was right. They didn’t have time to stand and bicker about their love life or lack thereof at the moment. She turned, and followed Solas, trying to ignore the way his eyes watched her every movement.

"We’re trying to get to the Divine’s manor in the center of the city.” she said finally, glancing at him. “I’m still mad at you.” she added as Harding and Neve caught up to them.

“And the blight tendril connecting to the archon’s palace? Yes, I thought the same. Some intelligence guides the tendrils. It has prevented me from getting closer. You need not believe me, but right now we need each other.” Solas cast a glance her way. “I take full responsibility for your anger.”

“No, you do not get to do that, you do not get to try to make up here in the middle of a battle-” Reva said, aggravated, but Harding interrupted her as they turned a broken street corner.

“Enemies ahead, a lot of them!” She wasn’t joking. The entire avenue was filled with darkspawn, and Reva caught sight of more than a few ogres. She grit her teeth, unslinging her shield and drawing her sword but Sola strode in front of her, his eyes beginning to glow.

“Let us see if they have heard the legends of the Dread Wolf.” He threw his arms into the air, and an explosion ripped through every single one of the darkspawn, effectively killing each one of them. Reva stared, her sword half drawn from its sheath, and she glanced at Solas and immediately bristled as she saw his shit eating smirk and the smug look of satisfaction on his face.

“Show off.” she muttered, but his smirk only grew, and they continued on. More darkspawn emerged from the blight boils in the ground, and Reva tried to not notice how easy it was to fight alongside Solas. His magic was beautiful but powerful, and she could feel it brush against her in an almost intimate manner every time he cast a spell. An effect of the Vhenan’ara vow they had made, she remembered, where their spirits were forever bound in life and beyond death. She couldn’t help but notice that her attacks landed harder when he was closer to her, and as they tore through the blighted streets of Minrathous, she found herself with her back to his more than once as if it was as natural as breathing. 

“Elgar'nan populates his armies with the cruel and the brutal.” Solas said after they took down a cell of Venatori who had all died screaming about the glory of Tevinter reborn. “No brilliant tacticians. Only those he can dominate and those who wish to become like him. But you, Reva? Your team is made from the clever, the wise, and the loyal. You honored their strengths to make them yours. That is why you are going to defeat him.” Neve and Harding looked at each other in annoyance at his words, and Reva tried to glare at him but failed.

“If you’re trying to flatter me so I’ll stop being mad at you, you know it won’t work.” she said, and he stopped next to her, leaning in a bit too close. She felt her cheeks burn as he gave her a casual once over, looking exceptionally smug about everything and it pissed her off. He raised an eyebrow at her and she scowled to keep from flirting back.

“I am merely speaking the truth.” he said, and she shouldered past him. He had no right to be so damn solid and muscular considering he was a mage who probably never lifted ever-

“Maybe try that first next time, okay?” she shot at him as they continued on, and at that Solas fell silent. Harding looked smug that Reva had rendered him temporarily speechless. The battle raged on, and they slowly fought their way towards the Divine’s manor.

“Whatever intelligence Elgar'nan has set to direct the blight, we are not far from it.” Solas said as they came into another plaza. The plaza was burning, with broken stones everywhere, and huge blight tendrils slowly crushing the stonework of the city all around them. Solas looked around, and Reva followed his gaze.

“Do you feel it? The blight reacts to my presence.” She did sense it. Elgar’nan was using everything he could to try to find Solas, and the closer they got to him the more obvious of a target Solas became. “There -” he said, pointing across the bridge in front of them where a blight growth the size of a mansion was pulsating sickly. Solas looked at her as if she was the greatest general of this age and maybe the love of his life as well, “if you can destroy the hive mind guiding the blight, we may be able to reach the palace.”

“I can accompany you no further. My presence will only draw the blight to you.” Solas said, taking a few steps back, and Reva looked at him. She was about to say something when Neve shouted-

“Bellara?!” Reva turned to see Bellara ensconced like a weird worm in a cocoon in the blight tendrils. Harding had begun to run across the bridge but then the Archdemon made its appearance with a screeching, ear splitting roar. It landed on the bridge, crushing it, the gust created from it landing throwing Reva and Harding backwards.

Reva realized she had been caught by Solas. He had one hand on her back, the other raised to stop the dragon, his hands and eyes glowing with his magic once more. Enormous tendrils came right at them as the dragon moved to bite at them. Solas ran in front of Reva, his hands surging with magic as he forced the huge tendrils to knock backwards, and then he forcefully shoved the dragon backwards, its roar sending powerful shockwaves through the air that nearly made her ears bleed. The dragon fell to the city below, howling, but it would be back.

“We are out of time.” Solas ran back to her, holding out the lyrium dagger. “I will defeat the Archdemon. Once Elgar'nan is mortal, the final blow…must be yours.” he pushed it almost into her chest, and she met his eyes, a million thoughts and emotions rushing through her. She felt his spirit reach out, brushing against hers, and he smiled wryly, “I can think of no one better to wield this.”

“I thought I'd have to fight you for that dagger.” she admitted, and she looked at him, heart full of love and despair for the man in front of her.

“Then this has been a day of surprises for us both.” he said, a half smile on his face. She didn’t take it immediately, and he stepped closer, pushing it to her. She grabbed the hilt and his fingers were warm against hers. Her breath hitched despite the situation, as her and Solas stared into each other’s eyes, a million unspoken words passing between them. He gently caressed her hand as he let go of the dagger, and she didn’t think then, she acted, as Varric once said ‘she tended to think in straight lines’. Before he could pull too far away, she grabbed him by his collar, and pulled him down to crash his lips against hers in a desperate kiss. He froze initially, but he responded quickly. His hand wrapped into her hair and tipped her head back, his other hand wrapping around her waist and pulling her into him. He bent her back slightly with the height difference, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, opening her mouth to his, moaning with want and need and pure unadulterated love and passion. By the spirits he felt so right , her body against his, the electricity of their kiss sparking magic in the air around them as he kissed her as if she would disappear. She knew her friends were probably gaping and probably panicking but she didn't care. Her whole existence, her soul, her spirit, belonged to him, she had always been his and she would always be his. They broke apart after a moment, their foreheads touching, both holding onto the other, and she searched his eyes as he searched hers. 

“Don't you dare die.” she whispered, and his eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled at her. “I'm still mad at you.” 

“Never forget your passion, vhenan.” he whispered back, kissing her forcefully, meaningfully, but then he pulled away, and she stood there, watching him as he turned to face the Archdemon.

“When next we meet, let it be over Elgar’nan’s body!” he yelled, his entire body beginning to glow. It was an amazing transformation; one second the man she loved had leapt into the air and the next he had transformed into the Dread Wolf, a wolf as large as a regular dragon, its fur a smoky charcoal, its six eyes the blue-green of Solas’s magic. The wolf howled, leaping past the gaping maw of the Archdemon, and it clamped its jaws down on the throat of the dragon, causing it to roar in pain as the force of the jump and bite of the wolf threw it back against the buildings. The dragon took off into the sky, with Solas clamping down hard on its neck, and Reva grit her teeth; now for the hard part. 

Chapter Text

They had made it to the Divine’s manor. Everyone they had met along their journey was there, and Reva met with everyone she recognized. She couldn’t help but feel so proud of these people; they were all fighting for the world, against one evil, and if that wasn’t a symbol of unity she didn’t know what was. 

She met Queen Elissa Therin and her husband, King Alistair. Reva could have sworn fifteen years had dropped off of Elissa since she had seen her last, and King Alistair was absolutely smitten with her. Despite the fact that they were in a warzone, despite the fact that they were fighting an ancient elven god of legend, King Alistair was telling anyone who was unfortunate to stop for more than four minutes about how amazing his wife was. 

Inquisitor Evelyn Rutherford and her husband, Commander Cullen were there as well. 

“Solas was my friend.” Evelyn said sadly, her prosthetic arm having been outfitted with a shield. Reva was surprised to find out that the Inquisitor had chosen to go for Templar training, but it seemed her friend Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast had helped her become a Seeker in all but name so she wasn’t reliant on lyrium. “Besides, these northern mages have no idea how to handle real templar abilities.” she said, casting a glance at Magister Dorian Pavus, who looked as if his feathers had been ruffled. Reva knew the two of them were close friends, as they descended into bickering. She walked away hearing “Inquisitor, he went from ‘hobo’ to ‘ oh no’ -”

She gathered her group near a table with Morrigan and the Inquisitor after everyone had managed to drink some water, eat something, and basically get ready to throw themselves back into the fight. Even Bellara, whose eyes were blood red from the blight, the veins in her face black from the infection, was ready to fight again.

“Maybe the Wardens will be able to help you, Bellara.” Reva said, standing at the table as everyone looked at her. “Even if they can’t, Elgar’nan will die. And he’s dying today.” 

“No you can’t!” Bellara said, panicked. “That’s what I needed to tell you.” The group looked at Bellara as she shook, her expression worried. “When Elgar’nan was in my mind, I was kind of in his too. I could feel him, his mind, his magic, his…life force?” Bellara took a deep breath. “His life is tied to the Veil. His life is the only thing holding the Veil in place.”

“Oh come on .” Rook groaned, slamming her fist on the table angrily. 

“I felt the Veil weaken when Ghilan’nain fell. I expect that when Solas imprisoned the other gods, he bound them all thus. And now that Elgar’nan is the only one left…”

“If we kill him, the Veil collapses.” Bellara said, and Reva ground her teeth angrily.

“Damn it! He said something about this in the memory of him binding the Evanuris.” she said, “I thought he was just stealing their magic, I didn’t realize he meant it literally. That smug, backstabbing, little shit .” She kicked the table, because she needed to hit something.

“What did the table do to you?” Lucanis asked innocently, and she glared at him. He shrugged.

“Well, not killing Elgar’nan is not an option.” Reva said, seething. “So what do we do?”

The group discussed needing a specific substitute for holding the Veil in place. Ie, Solas, an ancient elven god. They discussed different ways they could do so; convince him to do it himself, trick him, or fight him. 

“I am personally in favor of punching him in his face because he deserves it.” Reva said, raising her hand. No one laughed at her joke. “My comedic talents are wasted on all of you.” she muttered.

“For now, let’s focus on Elgar’nan. He’s in the palace above us. We’ll climb the blight tendril to get there. Once Solas takes down the Archdemon and renders Elgar’nan mortal, we hit him with everything we’ve got. Time’s running short. Stock up on supplies, pay your respects, and say goodbye to the people you love. We don’t know how this ends, but we’ll die trying for the best one.”

-.-.-.

Emmrich and Taash were both knocked out or dead. Bellara was gone, underneath all the blight after she had helped free Solas. And Elgar’nan… was dead. They had done it. Reva lay on the ground, clutching her side, where it felt as if half of the bones in her body were broken.

“It is done. The world owes you a debt.” She groaned, trying to get to her feet, but the exhaustion was settling in. It had been some exceptionally long hours, and her body was starting to feel it without someone pouring healing magic into her. “Both for killing Elgar'nan, and for bringing down the Veil.” The lyrium dagger was away from her; it had fallen from her hands in the explosion caused by the destruction of Elgar’nan’s spirit. 

“I am sorry for this final betrayal…but I will do what I can to minimize the damage. When you see the old world restored…” Solas’s hands came to life with magic, and he began to pull the dagger towards him as he held his side. Reva saw it moving, and as it flew towards Solas’s outstretched hand she managed to jump, grabbing it before it could reach him. She landed on the ground with a painful thud, and Solas almost whined at her.

“ Please Reva. I do not wish to fight against you.” He sounded desperate, tired, and Reva considered her options. Initially, her first reaction was to turn around and punch him in the face because he deserved it. 

And yet.

“I don't want to fight you either.” she said, forcing herself to her feet and facing him. He looked so broken, covered in blood and dirt, a great cut over his left eye, the area bruised and his eye bloodshot. He had some blood on the right side of his mouth, whether it was his or the Archdemon’s, she didn't know. “But I don't want to see the world suffer even more after what Elgar’nan has done. Do you?” She asked, stepping towards him. His eyes met hers, and she saw the pain reflected in his gaze.

“This world is broken , Reva. Because of my mistakes.” He said, digging in.

“Solas wants to be the hero. That's who he is, deep down. But it's easier for him to be the villain.” Varric's words echoed in her mind, and she felt her heart break. 

“You're right. You do need to make up for the damage you've done.” Solas looked surprised at this, “but breaking the world again -” his eyes narrowed as he considered her words, “-is the wrong way to do it.”

“Letting the Veil collapse-”

“-is what you want.” Reva said, stepping closer, holding the dagger to her chest. “Making amends isn't about what you want.” She swallowed, taking a deep breath as Solas watched her warily. “You could save it, by binding yourself to the Veil.” He looked at her as if she were mad, and perhaps she was. She had been hit in the head quite a bit in the last day. “Save the world Solas. Please .” she held the dagger out to him, and he took it from her gently, holding it with a quiet reverence. His eyes met hers, and then he turned, holding the dagger in both hands, making his way up the steps to the platform where a large tear in the Veil was forming. He stepped closer, and Reva followed him, not sure he would do it.

Not sure if she would need to force him to.

Not sure if she would be able to, if it came down to it. 

After a few minutes of silence, of Solas staring at the sky where small veil tears kept appearing, he bowed his head, and seemed to break once more.

“I cannot. To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far.” he said, and he moved to rip into the sky with the dagger when Reva saw the Inquisitor push past her.

“Even if those you've wronged asked you to stop?” Solas stopped, turning to look back at Inquisitor Evelyn Rutherford.

“Inquisitor…” 

“You were my friend, my closest friend.” The Inquisitor said, looking up at him. “We saved the world together once. Help me save it again.” she pleaded, and Reva stepped in before Solas could say no.

“You think you've gone too far to come back.” Reva said, stepping forward. “But you’re wrong. I know who you are. You don't have to pretend, or force yourself to do this.” She got closer to him as he watched her. “I am here , walking the Din'an Shir'al with you .”

“I… lied. ” Solas said, looking away. “I betrayed you.”

“And I forgive you.” She said earnestly. “All you have to do is stop .” Solas turned to face her fully, and lowered his head.

“Ir abelas, vhenan.” he said, looking back up at her. She could not help but admire how he looked against the glowing light of the sky as the Veil continued to weaken. “But I cannot. The elves lost everything when the Veil came to be. If I leave it in place, they will never once be as they as were.” He turned back to the huge gash in the sky before them. “And I will have… she will have died for nothing.” he said resignedly, and Reva and the Inquisitor exchanged glances. ‘She’ obviously being Mythal. 

Always fucking Mythal.

As Solas drew back with the dagger, ready to cut the sky once more, a raven screeched above them as Morrigan flew into existence, standing gracefully behind Solas.

“And whose fault is that, Dread Wolf?” she asked, and Solas paused, looking at her.

“Morrigan?” he genuinely sounded surprised, and Morrigan smiled.

“One appellation of many I wear.” she said, nodding at him. “I have been advisor to Orlais, Witch of the Wilds,” as she spoke both Reva and the Inquisitor made to stand next to her, so the three women were standing on the large platform next to Solas, “Daughter of Flemeth…and once, long ago, an old friend.” Solas closed his eyes as he understood the significance behind her words, and Reva noted just how battered and bruised he was. Morrigan pulled out the essence of Mythal that Reva had fought in the Crossroads, and as she held it, it began to glow. Reva watched as Solas’s entire body cowed, as if frightened, before the spectre of an elven woman that appeared before him. Mythal looked as she had in the Crossroads; pale, glowing, with a commanding presence. 

“Mythal…” Solas’s voice held awe, reverence, and perhaps a bit of fear, and Reva wanted to go to his side. Morrigan’s hand shot out though, holding her back for the moment.

“I pulled you from the Fade you loved and sent you into war.” Reva wondered if Morrigan had had words with the fragment since her fight. She suddenly remembered she had punched this would be goddess in the face. Repeatedly. Solas’s shoulders hunched, and it almost seemed as if he was… crying . He was curling in on himself like a child, and Reva broke from Morrigan’s grasp and went to his side, gingerly placing her hand on his shoulder. Whether he realized he did it or not, the hand not holding the dagger reached up to grab her hand, and his grip was tight as she watched him break.

“I used your wisdom as a weapon…and it broke you.” Mythal’s voice did not sound apologetic in the slightest, and Reva turned to the woman with barely restrained fury.

“The things that I have done…” Solas said, not looking up, and Mythal stepped closer, her eyes looking at Reva for only a moment.

“Are not for you alone to bear, my friend. The many wrongs we did, we did together.” Mythal stepped forward, her hand going to Solas’s other shoulder, and Solas stayed bowed, his body trembling from the onslaught of emotion he was experiencing. 

“You used him , and broke him. ” Reva snarled, her fury finally breaking in. “You even admitted it when-”

“I know.” Mythal’s eyes met Reva’s, “I tore him from you because I needed him, and it broke both of you.” Wat . Reva hadn’t expected that. Solas’s grip on Reva’s hand tightened. “It does not matter much now, but if it pleases you, accept my apology for the wrongs I committed towards you both.” Reva was stunned into silence, and she knelt down beside Solas, mostly because she lost the feeling in her legs and couldn’t keep standing. She felt Solas’s spirit almost fracture under the weight of Mythal’s words. Mythal looked at Solas once more.

“I release you from my service.” and then she faded away, leaving Solas barely standing as he cried, thousands of years of servitude, pain, and anguish coming undone in an instant. Reva reached out to him with her spirit, and the shock she felt at feeling WIsdom, and not Pride, nearly made her fall. She could cry.

He was finally, truly free. 

“You are free to find a better way.” Evelyn said, and Reva felt another surge from Wisdom.

“Banal nadas. Ar lath ma vhenan.” she said quietly, looking at him, and he just sobbed. She stood back up, and stepped away so he could have a bit of space. It’s not everyday that one is freed from millenia old servitude. Solas pressed a hand to his eye, as if trying to stem the bleeding, and he stood back up, controlling his breathing. He took a breath, and turned to look at the sky behind them, where even more Veil tears were beginning to appear. He looked back at the women surrounding him. Without warning, he raised the lyrium dagger to his other hand, and sliced it quickly, his blood swelling in his palm, and he clenched his hand around it as the blood dripped from his gloved hand.

“My life force now sustains the Veil. With every breath I take, I will protect the innocent from my past failures.” Reva wasn’t sure her heart could take much more, but it swelled again as she watched him be himself as he wanted to be. “The Titan’s dreams are mad from their imprisonment. I cannot kill the blight, but I can help to soothe its anger.” He paused, looking at Morrigan, then Evellyn, and finally Reva. “I will go and seek atonement.” Solas held out the dagger to her. “Please.” he all but whispered, and she looked from the dagger to him, and panicked.

“No, you can’t just leave me, not-not when-” she choked, “We have things to talk about, remember? We really just found each other again after-after everything! Solas, I-” Evelyn reached over, and gingerly took the dagger from Solas. Solas and Reva looked at her. 

“Reva.” Evelyn said gently, an understanding smile on her face. “ Go .” Reva stared at her, wide eyed, then nodded.

“Solas.” Reva said, managing to bite back the tears. “I will come with you.” 

"Ar ghilas vir banal." He sounded so sad, and broken, and her heart ached for him.

“Tel banal ara'ma vir shiral ma'lasa belanaris.” She said, and he smiled at her. How funny that the words they had spoken in the Golden Halls millenia ago were now being spoken between them again. He looked at Evelyn and Morrigan. 

“Thank you.” he said, and Reva looked at them as well. She saw Emmrich and Taash walking up behind Morrigan, and she smiled at them.

“Tell Harding we’ll see her in her dreams.” she called, and Emmrich laughed while Taash made a disgusted noise. She turned back to look at Solas, who was looking at her as if she were the most perfect thing he had ever seen. 

“Shall we?” she asked, and she held her hand out to him. Solas looked at her hand, and then pulled her into a hug. It took a second but she returned it, burying her face in his shoulder as he clung to her.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.” he whispered, his voice breaking, and then she felt the tingling of the Fade calling them.

“Ar lath ma, vhenan.” she whispered back, and together, they returned home.

-fin.