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The last few weeks had been bliss, like the feeling of taking that first breath after having been underwater for far too long, again and again, in every waking hour. The weight that had been pressing down on his chest was lifted, the pressure of the words relieved after he took the risk and released them out in the air and into her ears.
Ar lath ma, vhenan.
Solas never thought he could feel so happy, more so than during his time in Elvhenan when his conscience and his duty had yet to occupy the whole of his life. He supposed he should feel guilty, but for the first time he truly had a heart, and guilt was a thing of the mind.
Never in all his years would he imagine that someone could captivate him so, especially a mortal woman such as Neris. It was madness, reckless, unwise, unfair, and so utterly unlike him. But for the moment, he did not care. They had won each other over, both did not know how, but, in the end, neither had — not even Solas — truly resisted.
His walks in the Fade were brighter now, lighter, and more colorful. The blue was bluer, the songs more vibrant, and the air but a caress that took no effort to breathe. The battlefields and desolations were hard to come by, and Solas found himself only surrounded by dreams of memories of such cheer that the happiness still echoed through the ages. Spirits of Love, Joy, and Hope would now flock to him gladly and by their own volition, some he had never encountered before. He had been always proud of his ability to consciously shape the Fade, and to leave his subconscious out of it, but it seemed that he was wrong once again.
Tonight’s dream was of a humble house, small, wooden, and warm, with garlic and onions and other herbs strewn about to dry. The furnishings were old and worn, the hearth lit but in the Fade the warmth came from the dream and not the fire. Two narrow beds pushed together, and there they were, three humans, a man, a woman, and a child. Their clothes were worn and patched, their cheeks gaunt, and their frames skinny. A poor family, with not much to their name, but in that moment the father slipped from behind him and toy doll and gave it to his son, and the grin the boy gave shaped the entire dream, flooding the air with happiness. Solas couldn’t help but smile. A memory, insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but of great importance to the wisp that had captured it years — perhaps centuries — ago.
He left the house, still wearing the smile, drawn away by a feeling that pulled him like gravity. As he walked, the cobblestones turned to grass and the forest grew thick, and he felt the familiar energy he came to love and keep close in his chest.
Neris stood ahead, her silhouette cutting through the red and orange canvas of the aravels. Her mark flashed once at his presence, something it no longer did on the other side of the Veil, its magic calling to him.
His vhenan turned around, a slight hint of worry tinged her features until she realized it was Solas who approached.
“Hi,” she said with a smile.
“You called?”
“I… don’t think so.”
“Really? Then how is it that I come across your dream?”
“Well, I didn’t even think about you, to be honest.” She shrugged her shoulders and he huffed.
“You certainly have a peculiar way to make an old man feel wanted,” he smirked.
“Oh, come on, you’re not that old.”
“Depends on who you compare me to.” Solas made to hold her left hand first automatically, the Anchor calling to him, before he stopped himself and took her right hand instead. I have to stop doing that. He pulled her closer to him, until their bodies were flushed against one another, and kissed the top of her head. At first, her hair had no smell, but it was a scent he came to learn well in the past few weeks, so he conjured the memory, breathed in, and smiled. Solas gently tilted her chin up with his hand to look into her large amber eyes, and for a moment they remained still, staring at each other, until Neris stood on her tiptoes and surprised with a quick peck on his lips.
She giggled and quirked her brow, and he couldn’t resist to take her head in both his hands and pull her in a kiss.
“Not feeling so old, huh?”
And at that he laughed.
“When I’m with you, vhenan, it is like I have gone back in years,” he said, and pressed his lips to her forehead, his skin covering the pastel purple lines of her vallaslin. “Where are we, my heart?”
Neris disengaged from his touch and from his gaze. She made to start, but paused before saying, “Y-You’ll think it’s silly.”
Solas gently squeezed her arm, “I assure you, I will not.”
She let out a long sigh and turned back to him. “I was trying to recreate Arlathan. From the stories the hahren told. But I’m afraid my imagination isn’t very good.”
His eyes looked around, scanning the scenery she’d created. The bright colors of the aravels were the first to pop into view, but as his eyes travelled upward, he saw the houses built into the tree trunks and tops, wooden ramps spiraling up until they reached the clouds.
“Have we not seen enough elven ruins to know our people lived in houses of stone?”
A mock indignant gasp came from her mouth, and Neris poked lightly at his shoulder. “You do think it’s silly!”
“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, “It is quite impressive what you have done here. I don’t think I have seen another shape her dreams using just imagination in many years.”
“You knew another dreamer? I thought the People hadn’t seen somniari in centuries. You are the only one I’ve seen.”
“A dream of a dreamer.”
“Right… But I didn’t do this on my own.” Her left hand lifted up and the mark flared. “I had some help.”
“Do not discredit yourself, vhenan. This is all you,” he said, slowly putting her hand down. “However, if you like, I can show you what Elvhenan was really like.”
She quirked an eyebrow.
“You saw it in the Fade?” She teased.
“Yes. Many times.”
“All right. Show me.”
Solas smiled as he hummed. “Close your eyes.”
He clasped her hands in his as she shut her eyes. In this serene state her face was rid of any emotions, and Solas could see clearly how the lines of Falon’Din twisted across her skin, the circle center like the god’s eye, open and staring back in mocking. Were the Dalish vallaslin not merely ink and blood without the spell that brought the glyph alive, Neris wouldn’t even be able to stand across him as she did now in the Fade.
He shook the thought off his mind. For the moment, there was nothing he could do about that.
“We hear stories of the ancient Elvhen living in trees and the Dalish imagine wooden ramps, spiraling around the trunks, and aravels, moving from forest to forest.” As he spoke, Solas started to shift the dream, conjuring the details from memory, as he’d done so many times before, and felt in his hand the tingling of the Anchor’s magic reacting to his manipulation of the Fade. “Imagine instead spires of crystal twining through the branches, palaces floating among the clouds. Open your eyes.”
Neris’s mouth went agape as she unclasped her hands and made a turn to take in the surroundings. Solas had not recreated Arlathan, but rather one of Sylaise’s grandest cities, where art and song decorated every corner, and culture was cultivated in every street. The Hearthkeeper spared no expense when it came to her lands, and though it came from the backs of slaves, there was an undeniable beauty that awed the ignorant. Brilliant towers sparkled from the sunlight, twisting up into the sky until the tips were hidden by the clouds. Polished white and gold walls and floors, reflecting the bright green leaves of the trees that dotted the streets. Light and fire and runes illuminated every path, washing the city in gold and orange. Neris lifted her hand to her mouth, still dumbfounded and amazed.
“Solas… this is… beautiful!”
“Imagine every city a hub of culture, knowledge, and magic. Now imagine an empire that spanned throughout all of Thedas.” He sighed, “That is what was lost.”
She took his hand and stroked her thumb over his fingers, and pulled him through the empty street. “Show me more?”
“Ma nuvenin. After all, an empire is nothing without its people,” he smiled.
All around wisps gathered, intrigued by the change. As they came to the dream, the gentle spirits gleamed into Solas’s mind, taking shape of people he didn’t even know he knew. The streets came alive with the reenactment as they filled with elves coming and going, painters and musicians working their craft in the sun, merchants selling wares the likes that Neris had never seen. The People, old and new, the life and blood of Elvhenan.
“Imagine beings who lived forever, for whom magic was as natural as breathing.”
As he spoke, the streets were filled with spells: the fire that burned without dying, the air that kept itself warm and pleasant, the palaces that lifted themselves from the ground and into the sky. And then, just before Neris could, Solas saw the three marked elves in chains, following behind their masters. All around he could spot them, inconspicuous when his younger self had visited this place, but very aware of them now. All around he could see the slaves, subservient to their lords and ladies, tethered to them by virtue of their vallaslin. What would she think? He couldn’t let her see it, not now when she was supposed to dream of better things.
Before Solas could think he grabbed Lavellan by the shoulders, stopping her from turning to see her ancestors.
“Imagine a… an empire without slavery or classes,” he said, and within a second all the nobles and all the slaves vanished as the wisps transformed into something else. “Where people were free to live as they will.” And the spirits took form of others, from memories so ancient everything seemed happy to Solas. “Imagine a nation without corruption, without ignorance or prejudice.” And as he stroked her face, he indulged in the selfish desire he had been holding back since he saw her, truly saw her. Magic released from his fingertips, too subtle for her to feel against the magic of the Fade, and for a brief moment her face was clear, no longer claimed by a god who did not care for her. She was so beautiful. “That— That is what we could have been.”
Neris looked at him, silent, taking in everything she saw and didn’t see. He had hid her the truth in order to show her the dream that had never truly took place. Suddenly the realization settled in, and Solas felt guilty again. This was a disservice.
“It’s not too late to try again,” she said, breaking his train of thought.
“Do you truly believe that?”
“That’s what I’ve been fighting for all my life.”
Lavellan was a better person than he’d ever been. Oh, how she put him to shame!
“You have such a marvelous spirit, vhenan.” How could it be that she both reminded and distracted him from his duty? “Ar lath ma.”
This had to sto—
Her mouth crashed onto his, and the beat of his heart turned louder than his thoughts.
What was a few months, years, decades, compared to a lifetime of purpose? As they stood a tangled mess of lips and limbs, pressing together and holding on to another, Solas could only hear two words in his head:
Not yet.