To Almost Feel Her Near Category: Stories
Current mood:
accomplished
Disclaimer : A One-Shot Short cause I am not that good with Farewells. After Trespasser, Solas attempts to keep a lasting memory and to repair Lavellan's arm.
He knew that he shouldn't have been there, but as space and time opened in a ripple between pockets of itself, the void that Fen'Harel created could not have been ignored.� He stepped� through the void's opening, landing on the balcony of Lavellan's terrace.� His wolf form was not as large as it would have been in the Realm of Dreams, but he still carried with him the six eyes; most of which he had kept closed to camoflauge with his black fur.
The void closed behind him as he looked towards the large windows and doors that remained open.� He sniffed the air; walking on all large four paws in search of any others to have lain any physical claim to the area aside from himself and Lavellan.� It had always been their secret place--the only place in all of Skyhold where they could have had a moment to themselves.
The doors were open though, and wolf paused to cautiously look towards large bed inside of the room.� His left ear folded back, flat at first to listen.� He could see the singular form of someone sleeping in the soft mattress there.� The wolf was almost worried to have stayed, but he listened carefully to the slow breathing against the heavy red velvet comforter.� It was paced to the rhythm of her heart, a memory that he had listened for once before in the many times he had watched over the Inquisitor.� Fen'Harel could determine then from the scent of her and shallow breaths, that it was in fact Lavellan asleep in her bed.
The wolf cautiously crept farther into the room by then, breathing in slowly of her scent and trying to mark it in his memory even still.� He looked up to the large bed and paused once more.� He watched the rise and fall of her chest from there.
He was entranced with the sight because she remained so beautiful to him.� Lavellan was almost etheral to him; sacred and pure and he was never more attracted to her than when she was asleep.� He would have worshiped her as the Sentinals of the Ancient Temples, pouring sweat honey and fine hearbs to her lips to keep her beauty and health thriving and vibrant.� He would have rand a golden comb through the silken strands of her hair and dawned her forehead with a crown of pearls and diamonds. Her perfect pointed ears, he would have kissed with emeralds and saphires to her liking. In so many ways, she was captivating and he nearly felt helpless to avoid the thought of such worship of her.
In a flash of light that filled the room, the wolf had soon shifted into the form of the familiar elf that was known as Solas.� His robes were heavy, coated in formal mage armor and a heavy hood of silk that covered his head.� He paused, studying her and reached down slowly to trace the comforter that covered Lavellan's shoulders.� She continued to breathe in deep and slow, lost to her dreams and safe from the sight of Solas actually standing before her.
Even so, Solas could not move away right then -- even if she might have awoken.� He lifted the cover and viewed the stub of her severed limb.� The injury that stared back at him with such a heavy accusation; and one that may have been very well deserved.� It was his sin against her and yet the only thing that he could have done to save her as well as ensured that she would not have followed him.� Because she would have followed him...
Solas knew that his Heart would have dropped everything for him.� She would have destroyed anyone; anything in his name if he would have just said the word.� As much as he loved her for it, he could not approve either.� This was because Solas knew that she would not have been happy.� No one could have been happy to follow under what Solas was planning to have done, and he needed someone capable of proving that he was wrong.�
He needed to be stopped and shown that the world could function as it currently was; corrosive and continually bleeding--but alive.� Solas also needed to have been shown that the elves were not lost to the humans or any other race, for he has seen the traits of elven blood already being swallowed up by time, ignorance and new tolerances.� To him, this world was a mistake.� It was dying and with it, his people were being consumed.� Even his lovely Lavellan. He could see her fierce and shinning before him in all her glory, but even so, she too was being swallowed.
He wondered then if she would still wait for him. As selfish and foolish as the thought was, it still crossed his mind and lingered. She would have been better off not thinking of him at all. Chasing after something so pitiful and poisonous as 'The Dreead Wolf' would only leave her to cry herself to sleep. Perhaps then someone else would comfort her and warm her bed. It would have saddened him, but Solas would not have minded it; for at least then maybe, just maybe, her heart would not hurt as much as his did right then.
His fingertips traced along Lavellan's bandages then, for he almost would dare not even touch her.� Tracing a trail further down towards the mattress, Solas used magic to pull remnants from between the Veil to take shape.� With it, he gave the faded image of Lavellan's remaining arm, and Solas had almost wept from the sight.� The spell had failed, after all then.� His curious attempt to have repaired what he had done still would not work.� The only thing he had managed to do was create a memory through electricity and the pressures of the Veil.
Lavellan mumbled some in her sleep and Solas moved as if a shelf of earth had been suddenly ripped away from underneath him.� His knees had bent and cautiously, he found himself sitting on her bed next to her.� His arms moved around her to hold her and his face rested upon the faded formation of Lavellan's missing arm.� The memory of her skin tingled against his cheek like fresh static after a dry heat.
His eyes closed momentarily and Solas tried to calm the rush of his anguish to his failure.� The tightness in his throat and his heart twisted and turned near his adam's apple.� He stayed for just a moment longer; trying to create the memory of her.� He would lock it away in his heart to protect it from his mind; keep it somewhere safe from anything that would taint it or corrupt his own thoughts of her.� No demon or spirit was allowed to touch what he cherished so sacred and pure.
"...Ir abelas, ara lath...(*)"� He whispered in quiet and light so as not to awaken her.� "Ara dir'vhen'an.� Sasha mar melin julahnan fra nydha. Var vas druast i'em'an, i alinen tel'juhartha ebalasha.(**)"
With his vow said, he lifted his head moved towards her head.� Still he had not touched her, but his lips left a light and feathery kiss merely inches from her closed eyes.� Solas watched then as she mumbled more in her sleep and turned away from him; rolling to the other side of the bed.� Solas smiled sadly, watching her and after a moment longer he rose back to his feet.� He didn't want to leave, because he knew it would have been the last time he would have seen her this way.� However he needed to leave.� The cries of his people rang in his ears, pulling him back, and as the void had opened behind him, his image had soon slipped away behind smoke and shadow until at last the opening was closed and he was suddenly gone.
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(*) I'm sorry, my love. (**) My promise. Only your name shall I cry during the night. Our bond is sacred with us, and others shall not hear my grief.
accomplished
