Through Her Eyes

Chapter Fourteen

They sat on the couch in uncomfortable silence. Their knees almost touching as they sat indian style, keeping to the center of the couch to not come too close to the edges of the couch, which took the most damage in her rage. She had let her hair down, her hands constantly running through it in her anxious state. Over and over again, she would open her mouth to speak, run a hand through her hair uncertainly, and then clamp her mouth shut again without ever making a sound. She had questions, he had answers, and they were running out of time, but still she felt paralyzed. It had been almost an hour since Dorian and Krem left, and they had said nothing but fucking hellos to one another in all this time. Solas seemed to be at a loss for words as well, as much as she could tell. His usually soft gaze was constantly shifting to different areas of the room, often lingering the shredded book that still lay atop the now broken coffee table. She’d have to apologize for that later – she hadn’t meant for it to get in the crossfire. Or maybe she had? She couldn’t remember; everything about the last four days was a huge blur. She was growing more and more tired with every breath she took, and being the only one who seemed to have questions was putting her on edge. For what felt like the millionth time, she looked up at Solas, who in turn quickly averted his gaze from her.

This is fucking ridiculous.

Lavellan sighed loudly, letting her head fall into her hands. “Let me… Fuck, ju—just gimme your arm.”

Solas’ ears twitched at hearing her voice, louder than before, more powerful; it seemed she was gaining whatever strength had left her for the past few days back with whatever determination she had just found. Solas complied slowly, pulling the sleeve up from his arm and carefully stretching it towards Lavellan. She looked down at his hand, her brows furrowing before hesitantly taking it in her own. Her fingers ghosted over his knuckles, studying his freckles and scars. Seeing them again brought back memories – not just of her own life. She shut her eyes and shook her head quickly, fingers stiffening over his hand. She didn’t want visions right now, she needed a clear mind for this – as clear as she could possibly get it. 

“…Ellana?”

“I’m fine,” she mumbled, forcing the visions away and refocusing her eyes on his hand. Her frown deepened, as she realized her last memory was of when they were in his car. She had held the same exact hand – she had been so close.

“Fifty-three freckles,” she mumbled, lightly tracing her finger against a scar, a small smile tugging against her lips.

Solas raised an eyebrow, staring down at his own hand. How could she possibly…?

“I—I don’t know,” she looked up at him. “I just… know.”

“Visions?” he asked, throat dry.

“Knowledge,” she corrected, shaking her head and shrugging before looking back down at his hand. She took a deep breath and lightly grabbed his wrist with her other hand. She didn’t want to turn the appendage over, didn’t want to see the name she knew she would find there, know that he was Fen’Harel, that he had lied. She didn’t want confirmation. She didn’t want to know – but yet, she did. She needed to know. She needed to—

She shut her eyes as she turned his wrist around quickly, before she could change her mind, and let her fingers lightly trace the faded ink before cracking an eye open.

There it was. Her name. Lavellan.

Amber colored and, much like hers, faded, with a dull yellow outline. Her head was spinning again, and all she could say was, “You’re real.”

Solas watched as Lavellan reacted to seeing the tattoo. Her eyes moved from his face to the tattoo and back, focusing and un-focusing, as she ran hands through her hair, fidgeting. She finally pushed his hand away and stood up, pacing about her apartment.

“You’re real. You can’t be real — you’re not supposed to be real! You were dead — why wouldn’t you be dead? You never found me! Didn’t care to find me! You had to be dead, that was the only logical explanation!” She looked back over at him, her eyes panicked. “Y—you can’t… Tell me the tattoo is fake! Th—that you somehow got a tattoo of my name just for some – some prank? Some ridiculous, horrible, prank? This isn’t funny! Why would you get a fake tattoo? Why would someone do that? Why would someone even—”

“Yes,” he interrupted her tirade and furrowed his brows before she could work herself up even more, looking down at his tattoo. “I got a tattoo of your name twenty-three years ago, just so I could torment you now. You do realize how preposterous that sounds, yes?”

She snarled and started pacing again, forcing herself to ignore the snide comment from the elf.

No. This isn’t real. This is another dream. I’m seeing myself react to a past self who was lied to!

“Why did you hide this from me?” Lavellan stopped pacing and yelled, pointing her finger at him accusingly. “You know how long I’ve been looking for this man! You know what I’ve given up—what I allowed to happen on the off chance that maybe Fen’Harel might be on the other side of that damned door!” As she spoke, she flailed her arms about, motioning this way and that way but nowhere in particular, gesticulating furiously.

“I was going to tell you once I concluded my business with the others.”

“The others?” Lavellan hissed, narrowing her eyes at Solas. “What of me? Were you going to keep me in the dark until the exact moment you found the last person?”

“Yes,” Solas conceded after a moment’s hesitation.

“How?” She moved back to the couch, balling her hands into fists.

“Why? Why would you do that? How could you do that to me? How could you keep that from me?” she growled viciously before she visibly deflated, shoulders slumped and fists slowly unclenching. She took a step back from Solas, shaking her head in disbelief.

“I myself was not sure it was you until recently,” he admitted, rolling his sleeve back down.

“Oh, yes, because there are so many Lavellan’s with the name Fen’Harel tattooed on their motherfucking wrist!” she hissed, turning away from him. She felt like she was going to cry, could feel the pressure of the tears behind her eyes, but they never fell. She didn’t want to be angry anymore, she didn’t want to feel this way. Her head fell in her hands and she groaned. Her emotions, all these feelings, were just too much. She didn’t even know what she wanted anymore.

“The last thing I ever wanted to do was cause you pain,” Solas was now standing behind her, a hand hesitantly hovering over her shoulder. “I have been alone a long time, Ellana. You have proven to be happy without me—” 

“Does this look like happy to you?” she sounded hoarse again, looking over her shoulder at Solas’ hand that still hovered over her. When she found the strength to keep speaking, her voice was filled with the fury of a hundred loves forsaken, a hundred hearts broken. Solas backed away as the intensity of her words hit him, striking like a freight train at full speed. “Where in this apartment do you see happiness? Near the broken bed? The blood stains on the wall? The broken picture frames of my ex’s and loved ones lost? Where is the happiness here, Solas?”

Solas’ hand fell to his side as she finished, bowing his head in shame. Lavellan’s hands trailed up her arms, protectively hugging herself again as she turned her head away from him.

He had been so stupid. How could he ever have said she was happy when, from the moment they met, it was so obvious that she was not? He had watched her mood better as they spoke more; how she smiled more often when they spoke, how genuinely confused she was when he pressed her on her thoughts on his book. She hadn’t been able to speak to the others about it, that much became obvious during their talks – “They laugh, constantly. Dorian keeps asking when his fairy godmother will show up and make everything okay.” – they never tried to understand. They did, at least, respect her to a degree with her imagination. She was happy; at least with him. 

With him; only with him…

He looked at her, then; really studied Lavellan like she was something foreign, something new, yet to be understood. He saw her in a new light. She was tolerable with her friends but not happy. She accepted life but she didn’t love it – not like she had since knowing him. Every conversation with him had made her soul brighter, had made her… happy.

“Ellana, I—I didn’t… I hadn’t… I—” Solas’ mouth clamped shut as the door to the apartment opened quickly, Krem’s voice filling the living room instantly.

“—to check with her first, Dorian. We’re asking her to leave, you know she’s going to put up a fight.” 

Lavellan looked up at the pair as the door shut, raising an eyebrow at them.

Leave?

She heard Solas retreat back to the couch behind her, and she looked over her shoulder as he slumped onto the couch, his head in his hands. The two men entered her kitchen, still mumbling to each other as they set some bags down on her counter top. She returned her glance towards the kitchen before sighing softly, her hands falling to her sides. She turned, walking back over to the couch and sitting next to Solas. Pulled her legs up to her chest, she rested her cheek on her knees.

They couldn’t talk with Dorian and Krem back. They’ve have to speak later about this. Somehow.

“Ellana,” Dorian cleared his throat as he exited the kitchen, moving to the middle of the living room. “We need to talk.”

Oh no.

“You can’t stay here.”

‘Leave.’ That’s what he meant.

“Dorian—”

“It isn’t up for debate, Ellana,” Krem interrupted before she could speak her mind, coming up behind Dorian. “You can’t stay here, not in this condition.” 

“G—guy’s, really, I’ll be fine here!” Lavellan protested, standing up from the couch and raising her hands at the two. “I can sleep on the couch tonight. I’ll fix everything up tomorrow and—”

“No,” Dorian said firmly, crossing his arms. “What if you have another episode like this, Peaches? You need to be monitored, especially if your dreams are causing this.”

Lavellan looked at Krem, furrowing her brows and frowning, “Krem, come on. You aren’t really with him on this? I told you – you know that my dreams didn’t cause this.”

Krem took his time looking between the two elves before sighing, “Then what did?”

Lavellan took a step back, hands falling to her sides once more. She couldn’t say it, couldn’t tell them why. Her and Solas still had to work through this themselves; having the others know would only complicate things. She opened her mouth to reply just as Dorian interrupted again.

“This isn’t up for debate, Ellana,” he stood up a little bit straighter. “I can drop you off at Merrill’s, or Isabela’s, or even at Sera’s if you would rather be with one of them, but you aren’t going to be alone for a while. Not until we figure out what happened.”

“She’ll stay with me,” Solas intoned, effectively halting the conversation as all eyes turned to him in stunned silence. Unperturbed, he stood up deliberately from the couch, placing his hands behind his back, and pressed his lips together.

It was clear he would brook no argument on the matter.

“You?” Krem raised an eyebrow, defiant nonetheless. “Why you? What makes you think she’d rather go with you than one of us?”

Oh no. Lavellan watched Solas as he walked, unhurriedly and with certainty, towards her friends. A shudder ran down her back as some deep, treacherous part of her mind forced her to notice how feral, how animalistic he seemed to appear, holding himself like that.

Her eyes widened as she noticed he was stalking her friends just like a wolf, certain of the kill, the victory of the hunt, might stalk its prey.

Not just any wolf… The Dread Wolf.

“You called me because neither of you knew what to do,” he broke the silence once more, pulling her out of her reverie. Solas looked between the two men, barely stifled contempt hidden just beneath the surface of his cool, collected expression.

Lavellan couldn’t help but wonder if Krem and Dorian could tell how agitated he really was.

“You know nothing about what is going on. Not once have you done anything to help Ellana to understand this, only poke and prod and mock her, which only made it worse. As much as you want to help her with this, you simply can’t. You don’t understand, you’ve never tried to understand, and you can’t help her.”

“Solas…” Lavellan breathed, eyes widened in shock. Did he really just do that? Did he really just say that to them? She couldn’t deny that she actually agreed with Solas on the whole; they couldn’t help her with this. Only he could, but even so, he shouldn’t have been so harsh. She returned her gaze to her friends, who appeared to be in as much shock as her. Dorian’s eyes were blazing, his fingers gripping onto the sleeves of his jacket as he tried to control himself. Krem was taken back, staring with both confusion and annoyance.

The entire room was on edge. Solas glowered down at them with piercing eyes as the two men glared back. Lavellan kept silent, watching the three argue with their eyes. Really, the two Vints had no chance winning this staring contest, yet they were stubbornly refusing to back down.

Someone would have to end this stalemate.

“I’ll go with him,” Lavellan said finally, breaking the silence, all eyes going to her.

“What?” Dorian hissed.

“He not wrong, Dorian,” Lavellan took a step forward, shrugging her shoulders. “You called him, and he…” Lavellan frowned and looked at Solas.

“He has been helping, and is still helping,” she looked back at her friends beseeching them with her eyes to understand. “I would much rather stay at someone else’s place – or, you know, my home – but I understand that you’re scared… Plus, I don’t feel like arguing, I just want to rest.”

Dorian deflated, slowly nodding. “Fine, at least you’re agreeing—”

“And you aren’t bad friends,” She quickly added, glaring up at Solas. “You wouldn’t have called Solas if you were. You two came to check on me, and helped me. Thank you for that.”

Dorian’s lips twitched into a small smile while Krem continued to glare at Solas. She understood Krem’s anger; he was already doubting himself, and Solas flat out called them both out on it. She walked up to Krem and gently took a hold of his arm.

“I’ll walk you both out,” she mumbled when he looked down at her. “I’ll get a new phone tomorrow and call you, okay?”

“You better,” Krem mumbled hesitantly, allowing Lavellan to guide him to the door. Dorian followed behind them, lazily waving his hand at Solas before exiting with Krem.

“You’re already on thin ice, Fen’Harel,” Lavellan hissed his name after shutting the door, turning to her soul mate. “I would advise you not to make it thinner.”