#fane's fine don't worry~ :3
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WIP Wednesday
*crawls out of my hole and hisses at the light* Weeeeednesssdaaayyy!
Yes! Hello! It is I! I’m here! I’m ALIVE! XD
I’ve been absent for about..two weeks? Something like that. Doesn’t seem long when you put it into perspective, but the main reason was because I was having some tough days with my mind and I became fixated on Tales of Arise. 50 hours later, and here I am! Back on my shit and slowly regaining control over my brain! :D
And so to celebrate, I have Solas ANGST! AH-HA! >:D
Thank you @noire-pandora and to all the other people who had tagged me in recent things! I’m grateful everyone still went out of their way to include me! X3
This includes some...complexities with Fane’s overall existence and a lot of things might seem vague. I introduced Tenacity and Devotion in a previous snippet, but this kind of hints at their overall role! :3c
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“The fever has broken,” A relieved sigh passed gradually upward, curving lips and emerald eyes found their way upwards as well, shining with relief and gentle happiness as they connected with Solas’ own.
Solas blinked before letting out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, feeling the same wave of relief that he could see in Devotion’s stare. So intense was the rushing of emotion he felt, that he found himself slowly doubling over, his chest and arms laying flush with the mattress and the furs where a dragon–his dragon–slumbered in peace, breathing even, face dry of sweat, and not in pain any longer.
Fane would be fine. Tenacity had succeeded in shoring up the foundations, putting stakes to refortify the walls of being. While Solas knew this entire series of events were actually the doing of the stubborn spirit, he couldn’t feel an ounce of dissatisfaction or anger at present. The reasoning that Devotion had provided for the disconnection helped with that, but he was also exhausted–physically, mentally, and most of all, emotionally. The last week had been…arduous to endure. It brought back painful memories, ones he never wanted to relive, even if he sought to relive other aspects of the past, to witness them and remember. He would never forget what had happened so very long ago when scales were flesh and a two-toned stare was the only voice offered, he couldn’t, lest such events take place again, but he could certainly do without reminders.
“You are certain?” Solas muttered out the question into the furs, feeling numb, but worry still found a way to invade him. It was always the way of his mind to doubt, wasn’t it? To search for shadows, even when light was shining to banish them? He always grappled with ‘hope’. It instilled more fear than relief at times, as any time he had hoped, he had lost that which was precious to him. He had no reason to doubt Devotion’s assessment, she knew Fane’s make-up and circumstance better than he, and yet…
Solas’ thoughts stilled as he felt a warm hand rest against one of his shoulders gingerly, much like a mother who sought to comfort her child did. Its sudden presence had him letting out another breath, this one far shakier, far less composed. It was becoming near impossible to keep himself from crumbling, but perhaps that was for the best. A release would be welcome and it would be needed. No matter his reservations, it would be needed…
The hand against his shoulder squeezed lightly, reassuring him, “I am certain, Fen’harel,” Devotion said, voice quiet, but holding no room for her words to be denied. “I can sense Tenacity’s presence around and within,” A warm chuckle tickled his ears, making them twitch and his body relax, “It is…strong, nearly palpable. He is no doubt cursing himself, letting fury fuel his endeavors.”
Solas let out mildly derisive snort, a tiny flicker of irritation welling up inside of him. He wasn’t sure how he could find the energy to be so, but perhaps an ember resided underneath cooled coals. The thought of Tenacity berating himself now for such irresponsibility was just…infuriating.
“Ah, so he was not cursing himself before then?” Solas inquired, feeling the strain in his voice, as well as he could hear it, “So he was not concerned that his absence was slowly, but surely draining the life he had worked so hard to preserve?! I believe that should be a forethought, not an afterthought!
Devotion’s hand against his shoulder flinched at his words, but remained present. Solas could determine it was seeking to ground him, to offer him comfort and a silent message of, ‘I understand why it is that you’re upset.’, but truthfully, he did not need it. He was merely exhausted, all of the hidden fear coming to the forefront and dispersing in the form of venom filled words. Many in the Inquisition believed him to be cold, not easily ruffled, and oftentimes, that was an accurate assessment of his personality. Distance was necessary due to the precariousness of he and Fane’s situation, subtly was paramount. Not to mention that trust had always been rare in him, especially centuries before.
So many second chances had been given, and each one had shattered as surely as the first. Trusting another, an entire Inquisition, was a risk Solas couldn’t afford, but yet he took it in regards to Fane. And that was understandably due to the nature of their relationship, their shared past, but it ran deeper than even that. His dragon was most likely the only one, besides spirits, that he could fully trust, could fully allow in and not fear being stabbed in the back. The passage of time had done nothing to change that.
And that life had nearly been lost because of one willful being’s oversight. Solas could feel himself getting hot with anger once again, and in an attempt to mitigate the burn those flames could potentially inflict, he brought a hand up to grasp one of Fane’s own. He needed stability, reassurance and a live pulse offered that.
Anything that drilled the statement, ‘He’s alive’ into his head offered that.
Devotion’s hand slowly began to recede from his shoulder, taking the warmth it offered with it. Her voice came slowly, quietly with the depths of remorse filling its more delicate undertones.
“We frightened you…,” she said with no small amount of certainty, “Made you and his deepest fears a near reality,” Solas heard a shift, fabric upon fabric, but he did not raise his head as Devotion’s voice came again, its tender cadence warbling with the beginnings of a sob, “It was not our intent to do so. It was not our intent to–to…mh.”
Remorse seemed to intensify around them at that and Solas felt his body freeze at how easily Devotion had pinpointed the source of his anger. He sometimes forgot just how adept the delicate spirit was at reading not only him, but anyone she came across. She was nearly as perceptive as Cole was at hearing another’s pain. But whereas Cole reached out to any and anyone, Devotion only reached out to those she felt an acute connection to; a deep resonance within her very being.
Solas felt a tinge of guilt stir between the ire wishing to envelope him as a stifled sound of distress came from Devotion, a frown working itself onto his face that he still had dutifully hidden against the furs. His intent had not been to cause harm, but as always, his words had been poorly chosen. While he was upset and tired and utterly spent, it wasn’t right of him to thrust all of the blame onto Devotion, or even Tenacity. The two spirits had had a justifiable reason for drawing away from Fane, and it wasn’t their fault they had been forcibly removed from their host. His dragon’s more gentle occupant had explained the situation to him, regaled that an odd and sudden influx of familiar magic had turned both she and Tenacity’s heads in an instant, and said that once realizing they had been extracted from Fane’s very being had bee-lined straight to where they could feel his flagging existence. Solas was as Devotion had stated; frightened.
Frightened at how easy it could be to have that which he cherished, that which he adored with all his heart be ripped away once again…
Solas sucked in a deep breath through his nose, releasing it on the next exhale before feeling his lips move, “...Ir abelas, Devotion. Neither you nor Tenacity deserve my anger.” he apologized with sincerity and gave Fane’s hand a careful squeeze, biting into his bottom lip when he felt the soothing thud, thud, thud of a pulse against his palm, “I am merely…”
Darkness enshrouded him as he squeezed his eyes shut, staving off tears of both fear and relief. As much as Solas wished to raise his head and look up into purely emerald eyes, to see if his behavior had been forgiven, he couldn’t. He was fearful of seeing nothing but scorn, or worse yet, hurt. Devotion’s eyes reminded him of the deepest part of Fane’s, and he couldn’t bear the sight of potential jade right now. Hurting the motherly spirit was like hurting Fane, for the dual spirits were Fane. They were independent in their own ways, which was intriguing due to how they could merge into his dragon’s consciousness and reflect into the various panes of his personality, but they were still him.
And just like his love, they had had no choice in the unfortunate events that befell them. Blaming Tenacity and Devotion’s unwilling and unknowing extrication was like blaming Fane for the abuse he had endured as a child. It was ignorant and it was undeserved in every way. Each may have made the first move towards those events, but deception had goaded their feet into even contemplating such movement.
He was just…he didn’t know anymore. Tired from days and nights of constant worrying and observation, running on barely an hour of sleep and entirely forgetting to eat? Frustrated due to his lack of helpfulness when Fane had first began to show signs of sickness, of failing strength, of his own fear, and from how the other members of the Inquisition had not ceased in questioning, even when Solas had reiterated how he had no clear reasoning for what was happening? Desperate to hold onto the last thing that he could say he truly, truly loved without feeling hesitation or the dreaded sensation of inevitable parting? Perhaps it was all of those things, maybe even more, but it still didn’t justify placing blame where it wasn’t due. All that mattered, all that should ever matter in an event such as this, was that Fane was alive. He was alive and he was safe.
Silence stretched on and on, filling the space, making him realize the further foolishness of his words, but he was loath to break it. Instead, he focused on the ambiance of life, of the gentle inhales and exhales of not only himself, but Fane. For several days that had been his only fixation, worry gnawing at his heart and mind as each breath had grown shorter, more labored, more deathly. All Solas had been able to do was watch as precious life sought to dissolve, and the spectacle had nearly torn him to shreds. He was so tired of losing, so tired of reason not aiding him when it was truly and desperately needed.
Irrationality had festered in him as the days passed, as the nights grew unbearably long, and any self-preservation he may have had, had been thrusted over Skyhold’s ramparts along with many, many conjured boulders. In the darkest depths of his being he had receded, seeking to destroy all that dared exist while another, that he felt deserved to exist more, whittled away. Sadly, that senseless urge of destruction, of annihilation had not sated the beast that dwelt deep, and irrationality grew, his temper flared more brightly, and many members of the Inner Circle had caught the tail ends of its flames due to merely being just as worried for the state of their Inquisitor, their light. Solas knew he would need to apologize properly. Especially to Mhairi. It was sometimes hard to fully understand that he and Fane were no longer…alone. Incredibly hard.
Solas let out a tired sigh before letting his eyelids flutter open. All he was greeted with was continued darkness, but he could see tinges of candlelight at the edges of his vision. Evening, then. Time passed quickly whether one was enjoying themselves or not. How long had he sat here with the Devotion, fretting and nearly spiraling into the darkened abyss that had engulfed him once before while she remained calm and attentive to Fane’s outward condition, and Tenacity toiled away within with fervor?
Truthfully, he had no idea. The sun had risen, the sky had turned blue and bright, then it had shifted to pink and orange, and then before he knew it, it had vanished, night cloaking the world in its blackened blanket. Now, all that remained was starlight and the moon’s glow, each source filtering in through both stained glass and simple pane. Candles had been lit, of course, mixing with paleness to offer sight and warmth, but even the memory of when he had lit them, or Devotion perhaps had lit them, was nonexistent. All Solas had been fixated on was Fane and the possibility of losing him–again. He had been so dangerously close to losing him.
So dangerously close…
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A long treat for your reading pleasure! A gift! :3 Solas is a mess right now. This is what happens when your lover’s very existence is heavily dependent on various factors~
Tagging (with no pressure!):
@oxygenforthewicked @the-dreadful-canine @dungeons-and-dragon-age @dreadfutures @rosella-writes @drag-on-age @little-lightning-lavellan and anyone else that’d like to share something! <3
#wip wednesday#my writing#god it has been a hot minute since i've written anything ngl#and every time i come back to writing i IMMEDIATELY write from solas' POV X'D#my mind is like 'yes let's try and write one of the most difficult and complex characters you've ever known as a warm up!'#i swear. no chill in my corner. PFFFT#fane's fine don't worry~ :3#tenacity and devotion just did a...mistake. heh.#and this also puts solas and fane in a precarious situation with the inquisition HEH.#*sighs happily* good shit~#dragon age inquisition#dai#solas#solavellan#oc: fane lavellan#male lavellan#m!solavellan#dragon age#writing
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