Chapter Text
Titan's Dreams Part Three
1 – Far From a Disappointment
Solas sat beside the unconscious elf who had captured his mark onto the flesh of her palm. She lay on a bedroll in a darkened jail cell. Fortunately, there were no other occupants, and the smell consisted mostly of damp rock and rusted metal. There was a torch on the wall just outside the door that cast elongated shadows that danced with each flicker.
The green glow of the mark lit the small cell. The magic on her hand never fully subsided but when it spit green fire the woman grew restless.
At moments like this, a haze of unreality struck him, creating a distancing effect. Perhaps it was all those years spent in the sleep of Uthenera dreaming in the Fade. Losing control of the orb had taken him by surprise. To have it again in this altered way etched into the palm of this elven mage felt both strange and familiar.
When Solas came forward with an offer of assistance. The Lady Seeker suspected duplicity. She threatened to have him executed as an apostate if he did not produce results. He was useless to them if he was unsuccessful at saving the woman with the mark.
Solas did not think the Seeker would act on her threats. Cassandra did not strike him as the sort to resort to such tactics. When she had wanted to put the unconscious woman in chains, Solas had protested. It had taken little effort to convince the Seeker that if the female elf remained bound it would impede his ability to learn all that he could.
Cassandra had not argued, but from the look she gave him he was certain she doubted his motives. Solas's respect for the Lady Seeker increased when despite her reservations, she left him alone with the unbound prisoner.
Solas knew very little about the woman who bore his mark except that she was a mystery and distractingly beautiful. She had a very fine form, curving in all the right places. Her skin was clear unmarked by a vallaslin, unusual in his recent interactions with local Dalish populations. Her hair was a dark auburn curtain that hung in loose waves to just above her waist. He resisted an urge to run his hand through the silky tresses.
Her pockets were empty. Solas expected nothing else for a prisoner. Her clothing was oddly casual, as if she had been caught unprepared for a journey. She wore an embroidered tunic with matching leggings in a forest green. The style was oddly familiar.
Solas cradled her hand between his own, attempting to glean what he could from his spell gone awry. The female elf had a deep connection to the Veil, most likely due to the presence of his mark.
The mark was hungry – more curse than boon. If left unchecked it could consume her whole. Fortunately, this elf was a mage, better equipped to handle the demands the mark would likely put upon her.
He could feel her magic flowing through her, but it wasn't alone. His magic was entwined with hers in a way he had never seen before. It was unlikely that his mark could have found a more apt candidate.
Solas doubted he could find any one else whose magical energies would sync in such poetic harmony with his own. It was truly a marvel to behold. Solas used this connection to calm the mark, restraining its fervor with relative ease.
Solas traced the lines in her hand easing the pain from her palm. He tried to transfer the mark to his own hand, but it would not move. It had become a part of her.
Solas had badly miscalculated. Instead of Corypheus unlocking the orb, the power had transferred to this female elf. The explosion had ripped a hole in the Veil making it unstable. Although he wanted its eventual collapse, it needed to happen in a more controlled manner.
It would be catastrophic if the rifts were not repaired. He would adapt and figure out a way to salvage his plans. He had to. Over the years he had learned to be flexible.
Cassandra entered the dark cell. “Will she survive?”
Solas dropped the elf's hand. “I believe I have stabilized her. She should recover consciousness soon.”
“Good. I want to know the moment she wakes up. We need to question her and find out what she knows.”
“Agreed.” He had no reason to argue with the Seeker. He probably had the most to gain from the truth. However, he doubted that she would invite him to the interrogation.
Cassandra left the room.
The unconscious woman was a puzzle. As Solas traveled the waking world, he rarely found anything worth demanding his attention. This still figure captured his focus in a startling manner.
He felt a connection to her that the presence of the mark did not explain. Solas almost did not want her to wake up. The moment he interacted with her, she was bound to disappoint, failing to live up to any of his imaginings.
As if to mock this sentiment, the elf stirred. She opened her eyes to reveal bright green eyes. Solas caught his breath, transfixed.
She scrambled upright on the bedroll when she saw him. Her eyes widened, but she was not fearful. She was angry. She was like an unchecked flame poised to burn an entire forest.
She said accusingly, “Is this another trick? You think I can't escape from your prison, Solas?”
The breath froze in his chest and everything stopped.
She knew him.
He had no memory of her.
He searched her face again, struggling to recall another time or place that they had met. Solas would never have forgotten such a woman. She was so vivid and alive.
It was as if the whole world were a dream remembered, but now he and this elf were finally awake. She was ethereal in her passionate fury, a marvel to behold on a number of levels.
It would be unfortunate if he must kill her. There was something about her that was so real. It was imperative that he discover the depths of her knowledge – to learn what she knew. He needed that mark; without it all would be lost.
“Who are you?” He asked. Solas watched her closely.
His question gave her pause. Her eyebrows drew together. “This isn't the Fade?”
It was a valid question, one in which most people would fail to ask. Had she thought he was a demon? Did that explain her anger?
“You are no longer in the Fade. Rest assured, you are safe.” Solas soothed.
She inspected him and then took stock of their surroundings. There was little to see aside from the dimly lit bars of her cell. Her eyes grew wide and a puzzled expression crossed her features. She seemed disoriented, understandable given the circumstances.
“Where are we? How did we get here? And why does my head hurt?” She asked in rapid succession.
We? Solas thought.
“Who are you?” He repeated the question.
Her eyes widened in panic. Solas leaned forward, and took her hand in his. He marveled at this action. His need to give her comfort seemed almost autonomic, instinctual.
The color was draining from her skin. She was cool to the touch. He was losing her. He could sense the darkness pulsing at the edges of her vision.
“I don't know.” She gave a little moan and he caught her before she could collapse and hit her head on the ground.
He held onto her. Her head slumped over the crook of his arm. Solas shifted so that her neck was no longer bent. He checked her pulse. Strong. He sighed in relief. She had slipped back into unconsciousness.
Solas shook his head in confusion as he probed her with his power. He refused to examine why he was loath to release his hold on her while he conducted these tests.
The feel of her magical energies were pleasing to his senses. Every person's magic had a unique signature, most he found distasteful, some he tolerated. She was like the first day of spring after a long cold winter.
He pulled a bit of it into him to learn more. It filled him with a quiet joy. It was like he could suddenly breathe, as if something wrong was somehow right again. It defied all reason. All he knew was that he enjoyed the sensation of her – and that made him push it back. Solas did not need this complication.
His heart was hammering in his chest. Solas eased her back onto the bedroll. He quickly weighed his options. It was with some relief that he acknowledged that this elf was necessary for his plans. He immediately ruled out killing her. He had regrets enough, he had no desire to add her to the body count.
Solas could wipe her memories, but she seemed to have sustained some kind of damage to her memory already. He had no desire to make her useless. Besides, he needed to learn how she knew his name.
He cast a healing spell on her head. No reason for her to suffer pain needlessly. When there was nothing more he could do, he left the prison. He informed Cassandra that the prisoner had stirred. He said nothing about what the woman had said to him. That was information he would keep to himself.
Solas had learned very little, but what he did discover was . . . unexpected. He felt a thrill at the thought.
The woman was far from a disappointment.
—--
Rook woke up seated in a chair with her arms bound together. She had just managed to pull herself from the Fade. It took her a few minutes to believe that she was really here and not in another manifestation of Solas's regret prison.
How had she gotten here? Her memories were scattered. She had found the hole in that damned Fade prison and then nothing. Next thing she knew she was manacled to this chair being interrogated by two women.
One was in armor, dark hair with a braid wrapped around the crown of her head and a long scar across her jaw. A Seeker. The other was a hooded woman, fine features, red hair, and a soft voice that somehow contained menace when she spoke. Some kind of spy. Despite appearing unarmed, the spy seemed the more dangerous of the two.
Rook didn’t remember exactly what she said, but the two women interrogating her exchanged looks. When she told them that she came from the Fade, they nodded and confirmed that she had fallen from a rift in the sky. They called it the Breach.
Whenever she mentioned the regret prison they misunderstood and thought she was referring to being their prisoner. They treated her with an unusual kindness for interrogators. The Seekers name was Cassandra. The other woman named Leliana had a guard free her hands.
“Do you remember what happened?” Cassandra asked.
“I already told you what I know.” Rook said.
Leliana exchanged glances with Cassandra.
“Perhaps we should ask the elven mage for help. He is the one who claims to be an expert on the Fade.” Leliana said.
“Not yet.” Cassandra said. “What is your name?”
“Rook. My name is Rook. I'm a member of the Veilguard. I was trapped in the Fade and when I escaped I fell out here.”
“What is this Veilguard? I've never heard of it.” Leliana asked curiously. Although her tone was cordial it was not without a hint of suspicion.
“Where am I?”
“In the Frostback Mountains, not far from the Temple of Sacred Ashes where you fell out of the rift in the Fade.” Cassandra answered.
Something about this exchange made her cautious. “What is the date?” Rook asked.
“You have been unconscious for only a couple of days.” Cassandra said.
“Please, what is the year?” Rook entreated.
“9:41 Dragon.” Leliana said, watching her prisoner closely.
“That's impossible.”
“I can assure you, I have no reason to lie.” Leliana said emphatically.
Rook looked down at the mark on her hand with growing horror. She knew what this was. “Haven. The Inquisitor? Where is she?”
Cassandra's eyes grew wide. “How did you know? We haven't even told anyone about reinstating the Inquisition.”
Leliana raised an eyebrow and asked Rook, “What was the date when you entered the Fade?”
There was little use to keep this a secret. Rook could tell the woman was smart enough to have already figured out some of it. Rook had let too much slip.
“9:52 Dragon. You haven't heard of the Veilguard because it hasn't been created yet.” Rook realized that she had already given away too much information then was advisable. “And if I want any chance to return home to my time, I'm going to refrain from any further discussion about the future.”
“Very well.” Leliana said.
“You asked where the Inquisitor was,” Cassandra pointed out.
“Yes. In my world, it wasn't me. Someone else bore the mark.”
“I see.” Leliana said. “So there have already been changes. The mark was on our ‘Inquisitor’, I presume. Then you must know about the Breach and how we need your help?”
Rook said, “Only vaguely. I heard some stories, but by no means am I an expert.”
Leliana answered, “Perhaps it would be best to keep the fact that you come from the future a secret for now.”
Cassandra asked, “What about the elven apostate? He professes to be an expert on the Fade. Maybe he could provide some answers?”
“Solas?” Rook asked. Of course Solas was here. This was how the Inquisitor became friends with the Dread Wolf. Leliana raised an eyebrow at Rook.
Rook hurried to explain, “I just remembered hearing that he was one of the members of the Inquisition.”
“I guess we should extend an invitation for him to join us.” Leliana said.
“And we are successful at establishing the Inquisition.” Cassandra said with satisfaction.
“Well I don't think you're supposed to know all that just yet.” Rook said dryly.
Leliana waved her hand dismissively. “This changes nothing. Events were already in motion. I'll leave the decision on who you tell about your situation up to you. Solas might be able to help, but if there is anything we should know about him or anything else. . .?”
“No. No. I just need some time to think.” Rook explained. She knew that Solas was instrumental in defeating Corypheus. She couldn't take the chance of changing things anymore than she already had by sowing doubt about him.
“Can we count on your help to seal the Breach?” Cassandra asked.
“For as long as I'm able, I will do what I can to help. Whatever it takes,” Rook said, resolved to play this out.
“That's all I ask of anyone.” Cassandra said pleased.
“So what happens now?” Rook asked.
Cassandra said, “It will be easier to show you.” She took her outside to see the green rift in the sky. “Unless we act, the Breach may grow until it swallows the world.”
Cassandra said, “Closing the Breach. Whether that’s possible is something we shall discover shortly.”
“Very well.” Rook agreed. “I will help.”